


Life Rewritten

by nico-drives-badly (emilyofjane)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Post-Devil May Cry 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 71,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyofjane/pseuds/nico-drives-badly
Summary: One month after the events of DMC5, V comes back to life far away from Red Grave City -- white hair, no familiars to aid him, and nothing but his cane and the clothes on his back. V has no memory of his former life, but when a newspaper article about the Qliphoth awakens a vague memory within him, he sets off on a journey across the country of Nascita to uncover clues about his past. Meanwhile, Nero struggles with the events of the past few months, unable to properly sort out his emotions. He finds himself getting angrier a lot more often than usual, and Nico notices that he has become increasingly reckless and distracted when devil hunting. When his inner tumult becomes too much for the hot-tempered devil to handle, Nero runs off on his own, worried that his unchecked anger will only put others in danger.What will happen, then, when Nero crosses paths with the human half of his father that's not even supposed to exist? Will seeing V only remind him of the unspoken promise Vergil failed to keep? Or will this new V offer the blank slate they both need to start a new chapter? And as V continues to uncover memories of his past, Nero and V can't help but wonder: what is V's purpose, now, in this life rewritten?





	1. Prologue

It started out as an ordinary day in the coastal city of Impetus City, the sun rising gradually over the shoreline just as it would any other morning. But as the tide rushed in and flooded the sandy beaches, it brought along a mysterious young man and deposited him onto shore, and this man was anything but ordinary. 

For one thing, the man’s all-black clothing was miraculously dry, despite literally being dragged in by the tides. He wasn’t coughing or sputtering, either, so he couldn’t have drowned. In fact, the man appeared to be sleeping, his eyes gently closed and his breathing slow and even. His stark white hair — an unusual trait for someone so young — fell into his eyes, shielding them from the morning light. His only possession was an elegant white cane held close to his chest. 

As the sun continued to rise over the horizon, more and more people began to populate the beach, and one by one they paused at the sight of the strange young man. Slowly they congregated around him until a small crowd had formed, examining the peculiar boy with interest. Who was this man? They’d never seen anyone like this before. No one seemed to know him or recognize him, either, which made his sudden appearance all the more intriguing. 

The concerned beachgoers began to whisper and mutter amongst themselves, causing the young man to stir. Slowly, his green eyes fluttered open, blearily taking in the mob of people surrounding him. He grunted softly, sitting himself up in the sand with his cane and brushing his long hair out of his face with his free hand. This seemed to invigorate the crowd even further, raising the decibel of their voices to the point where it gave the poor man a headache. 

“Where am I…?” The man managed to croak out, glancing around the unfamiliar beach in confusion. He gripped his head painfully. “How did I get here?” 

A rather forceful voice shouted “OUT OF MY WAY” from somewhere within the mob, and within seconds a lifeguard broke through the crowd and knelt down beside the stranger. 

“Sir, are you okay?” The lifeguard asked quietly, silencing the crowd with her hand. “What happened? How long have you been here?”

The man shook his head, unable to recall. “I-i don’t know…”

“Are you here with anyone?” The lifeguard continued to press him. “Is there someone we can contact in case you’re hurt?” 

“I don’t know.” The man answered more firmly, this time, frustration slowly building inside of him. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he think straight? 

“It’s okay, sir, just stay calm.” The lifeguard placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “Can you at least give us your name?” 

_/My name.../_

All at once the young man’s racing thoughts came to a grinding halt. What was his name? His eyes widened fearfully when he couldn’t recall it. The lifeguard’s eyes met with his, and she soon realized that the young man — barely older than a teenager — stared back at her with a look of pure terror. 

“I...I don’t remember.” 

The crowd behind the lifeguard panicked at the revelation, some whispering fearfully amongst themselves that the boy had lost his memory and others sprinting to find the nearest payphone and call 911. Strangers began to crowd around him, asking desperately what he could remember and eagerly offering to help. But the man, already dazed and confused at the realization, merely winced in reply as the noise worsened his headache. His head was throbbing, at this point, his heart pounding in his ears, the voices of the crowd dissolving into an agonizing roar.

He could feel his vision start to fade in and out as the EMS arrived on the scene. Between the anxious crowd, the blaring sirens, and the rush of medical staff coming to his aide, he didn’t know which way was up and which was down. The last thing he remembered was being loaded onto a stretcher, and when the doors of the ambulance closed in front of him, he blacked out. 


	2. After the Nightmare

It was July 15th, 7:30 AM, when Nico and Nero set off on their latest devil hunting mission in the Devil May Cry van. Nico yawned drowsily as she steered her way around the winding hills of Southern Nascita, making turn after sharp turn and going way over the speed limit. How she managed to not flip the van over, Nero had no idea. 

Nero groaned and rolled down the windows as Nico lit a cigarette, fanning the smoke out of the car in annoyance. “Seriously? Do you really need to smoke this early? We haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

“I need something to wake me up,” Nico replied snarkily, though she made sure to exhale the smoke away from Nero’s face. She knew better than to piss him off this early in the morning. “We need to be in Tumult City by 8.” 

“Then why don’t you just drink coffee like a normal person?” Nero rolled his eyes in reply, though Nico could sense the playfulness in his voice. 

“ _I’m_ not normal?” Nico shoved Nero lightheartedly as she said this. “Says the guy who’s literally part demon!”

The two shared a quick laugh before Nico returned her focus on the road. Nero rested his elbows against the windowsill and peered outside, the wind tousling his short white hair as they drove along. 

For not the first time since the Qliphoth incident, Nero found himself thinking back on how much his life had changed since April. He went from fighting with his Devil Bringer to fighting with a prosthetic, his own father cutting off his arm for more power. Then he teamed up with his uncle and (half?) of his father to defeat some demon tree erected by a jackass demon, who also turned out to be half of his father. Then his arm somehow grew back, he activated his true DT for the first time, and he kicked his father’s ass as soon as he became whole again. Not to mention he had no idea the bastard was his father to begin with, which makes the story even more outrageous. To say the last few months of his life were confusing as hell was an understatement. 

Nero’s mind wandered back to Dante and Vergil for a moment, and his heart stung a little. He had never really put much thought into who his family was growing up; if they dumped him at an orphanage, they obviously didn’t care about him, so why should he? But now he knew exactly where he came from — _who_ he came from — and he honestly didn’t know what to think about it. On one hand, it felt satisfying to finally know who his family was, after spending so much of his life not even knowing his last name. But on the other hand…

_THUMP!_

A sudden bump in the road awoke Nero from his thoughts, banging his head against the top of the windowsill from the momentum. 

Nero cursed under his breath and rubbed the knot forming on the back of his head. “Dammit, Nico, be careful!” 

“Eh, quit your whining,” Nico waved her hand dismissively. “You ain’t dead, aren’t ya?” 

Nero groaned and slumped in his passenger seat. “Why do we have to drive all the way from Fortuna to this hellhole, anyway?”

“You know damn well why,” Nico rolled her eyes. “The Prime Minister’s been organizin’ devil hunting efforts ever since the Qliphoth incident. You’re lucky he stationed us here and not the other side of the country.”

Nero sighed. He knew that Tumult City was one of the closest cities in distance to Red Grave City, and that Fortuna was only about 20 miles off the coast of Red Grave. But he also knew that — although most of the Qliphoth’s damage occurred in Red Grave City — the demon tree had sent shockwaves of damage throughout the entire country of Nascita, and Tumult City would’ve naturally gotten the brunt of it. 

“Hopefully the Hell Breaches won’t be so bad here,” Nero commented, eyeing the city in the distance.

“Hell Breaches” were a relatively new phenomenon caused by the Qliphoth. Apparently, as well as dealing insurmountable damage, the demon tree also weakened the barrier between the human and demon worlds in Nascita. This, in turn, has led to several “breaches” in the barrier forming over the past month, dubbed Hell Breaches by fellow devil hunters. Although not as serious as an open Hell Gate, Hell Breaches were a nuisance all their own, allowing hordes of lesser demons to escape the barrier and reap havoc on civilians that would otherwise be safe from demon attacks. 

Already, they could see the significant damage the Qliphoth’s aftershocks had dealt to Tumult City: entire houses were destroyed, certain roads were so broken up that they were rendered unusable, and several key facilities were critically damaged. The damage lessened the further one traveled into town, and they were far enough from the Qliphoth that human lives were thankfully spared, but that’s really where their luck ended. Tumult City was categorized under “most vulnerable” by the Prime Minister due to its close proximity to Red Grave; now Nero could see why. 

Nico continued to drive through the city streets, searching for the horde of demons they just knew would show up. Meanwhile, Nero continued to look out the window, lost in thought. Everything was fine for a few minutes, but eventually, the silence became unnerving. 

“Okay, what’s up?” Nico asked knowingly, glancing over at Nero. “You’re never this quiet. Something’s buggin’ you, I can tell.” 

“It’s nothing,” Nero said dismissively, turning away and avoiding Nico’s gaze. “I just...have a lot on my mind right now. No big deal.”

“Okay,” Nico managed to shrug it off, but you could tell she was still worried. “But y’know, if something is bothering you, you can always talk to me about it. You know that.” 

Nero didn’t respond, instead opting to rest his arms on the windowsill and peer out the window once more. 

Suddenly, something large and green zipped past the van, missing Nero’s head by mere inches. Startled, Nero looked over the windshield and found the culprit — a Green Empusa, ugly and annoying as ever. Nico took no time in slamming the overgrown insect into her windshield and throwing it aside with her windshield wipers, leaving behind a nasty streak of green guts. 

“Looks like we’re getting close,” Nero remarked, instinctively pulling out his gun, Blue Rose. 

Nico brought the van to a screeching halt right in front of the demon horde, containing about a dozen various Empusas and half a dozen Hell Caina. As soon as the car came to a stop, Nero practically leapt from his seat and grabbed Red Queen — his melee weapon — from the back of the van, thanking his lucky stars for the distraction. 

Nero was about to charge right out the door when Nico stopped him suddenly. 

“You forgot your devil breaker, dumbass!” Nico shouted, throwing a Punchline at Nero’s face, which Nero thankfully caught. 

“Right, thanks.” Nero replied distractedly, already halfway out the door before he even finished equipping it. 

Nico watched from inside the van as Nero hacked away at the demons, the already hot-tempered devil hunter looking downright murderous as his rage carried him in battle, and worriedly she shook her head. As much as she loved to push his buttons, she could tell when something wasn’t right. 

* * *

When the mysterious young man finally reawakened, he was greeted with a blindingly bright light. Was he...dead? Grimacing, he blinked his green eyes until at last they adjusted to the light, and much to his relief, he wasn’t; he had merely awakened in a small hospital room. Still, as he attempted to sit himself up in his bed, he found that he was still relatively weak, his arms buckling a bit beneath him before he collapsed back down again. 

Sighing, he looked down at his body as it lay uselessly on the cot, and he quickly noticed that his black clothes had been traded for a white hospital gown, making his already pale skin look almost ghost-like. Thankfully, he found his clothes neatly folded on top of the seafoam green counter, so at least they weren’t gone for good. His cane, however, was nowhere to be found, which worried him a bit. A few stray IVs were stuck into his left arm, and to his right, he could hear a heart monitor echoing his elevated heartbeat throughout the room. 

In front of him sat two empty chairs, a long mirror above them, and the door closed and locked to the right. The man peered into the one-way mirror, taking in his frail reflection with a sigh. 

How did he know is was a one-way mirror, you ask? 

Because he could already hear the doctors clamoring outside, crowding around the one-way mirror and shouting across the halls to their peers: “he’s awake!” 

All at once, the man’s face paled. _/Oh, great. Here we go again./_

A doctor and nurse were the first to rush in, the doctor barking commands behind him while the nurse checked the patient’s vitals. The young man’s head started to throb again, and the heart monitor began to beep more erratically as panic began to settle in. 

“Nurse Holly!” The doctor hollered over his shoulder as more doctors came trickling in. “Patient X’s heart rate is elevated. Quit worrying about the damn IVs for a second!” 

“Make sure to check Patient X’s blood pressure for any abnormalities,” Another nurse chimed in. 

“Don’t we have any forms for Patient X?” Another doctor asked, disgruntled. “Dammit, I’m not paying that secretary to sit around all day!” 

The young man’s head swam in confusion. Patient X? Was that an unofficial nickname they gave him, since he didn’t know his real name? All he knew was that he didn’t like it; he didn’t like any of this one bit. He could feel his breathing shallow as he began to hyperventilate, sending his head into a stupor. Thankfully, the nurse took notice and grasped his hand firmly, keeping him grounded. 

“I know there’s a lot going on right now, but you’re going to be okay, I promise. You’re in safe hands here.” The nurse gave him a calm and reassuring look. “Just keep calm for me, okay, sweetie? Deep breaths.” 

The man gave a quick little nod in reply, and he forced himself to breathe deeply, drowning out his hectic surroundings as much as he could. It wasn’t much, but at least he didn’t feel viable to pass out anymore. 

Finally, the first doctor returned, disheveled from stress but covering his exhaustion with a charming smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Dr. Frederick E. Morales, and I’ll be your primary physician during your stay here. Nurse Holly here is my assistant.” 

The nurse, Holly, gave the patient a shy little wave before Dr. Morales continued.

“I just received your test results. Your brain scans came back negative for any signs of trauma or injury. However, it appears that you’ve somehow acquired amnesia.” Dr. Morales scratched his chin thoughtfully. “An extremely unusual case, might I add. Most cases of amnesia are accompanied by brain damage, but your brain looks completely healthy. It’s a real head-scratcher.” 

The patient’s face fell flat at the news. “Wait, what? I...I can’t remember _anything_?”

He couldn’t believe his ears; surely it had to be a mistake. But as he desperately tried to recall something — anything — from before he woke up on the beach, the poor amnesiac realized with horror that the doctor was right. He couldn’t remember anything: where he came from, how he got here, his friends, his family...not even his own name.

The man could feel that ear-splitting headache starting up again, and that dizzy, disorienting feeling returned. To make matters worse, yet another doctor came rushing in, this time carrying a stack of medical forms. She held them in front of his face for him to read over (not that he was in any sort of position to read, anyway) before quickly handing him a pen. 

“We need you to sign this release form so we can add your records to our database,” The doctor explained promptly. Realizing that he did not know his name, she quickly added, “Just write down an X. That’d be good enough.” 

The poor amnesiac, shaken by all that was going on around him, shakily grabbed the pen from the doctor and attempted to write an X. But his weak body, combined with his heightened nerves, made his grip unsteady. His wrist gave an involuntary jerk as he made the second mark in the letter “X”, missing the first mark completely and drawing the second line way too far to the right. In the end, it ended up looking more like the letter “V”, much to his embarrassment. 

The doctor took back the forms and checked his signature, and a small chuckle escaped her lips. “Well, that’s one way to write an X. Hehe, maybe we should start calling you Patient V instead.”

After receiving a rather stern glare from one of her colleagues, the doctor cleared her throat apologetically. “Sorry, I just found that funny. I won’t actually call you that...unless you’re comfortable with it, of course.” 

The young man contemplated this for a moment. Call him crazy, but he swore he felt an odd sense of familiarity when the doctor called him Patient V. He didn’t know how to explain it, honestly. But, at this point, anything was better than being referred to like something from the X Files. 

“Actually, I kinda prefer it,” He admitted, smiling shyly. “V, I mean. Not the whole ‘patient’ part, obviously.” 

The doctor nodded, unsure of how to react but respecting the patient’s request nonetheless. “So, would you like us to call you V?”

“That would be great,” V smiled. 

The doctor nodded and left the room, promising that she would notify the rest of the staff about the name change before departing. Eventually, the rest of the staff filtered their way out, until only the nurse — Nurse Holly — remained. 

“Sorry about that,” Holly apologized quickly, bowing her head slightly. “We’re actually really understaffed right now, so hopefully you won’t have a mob of doctors visiting all too often.”

She looked up at V and gave her patient a sweet smile. “But I’ll gladly answer any questions you might have. I’m sure you have plenty of them.” 

“Yeah…” V racked his brain for questions he knew she could answer, and eventually he settled on the basics. “Where am I? What city is this?” 

“Oh dear! We never told you that, did we?” Nurse Holly shook her head and sighed. “Sorry about that. But anyway, you’re in Impetus City General Hospital. Impetus City is a big tourist city, known for its beaches and whatnot. As for the country, you’re in Nascita — Northwest Nascita, to be exact. You have heard of Nascita, right?” 

V wasn’t sure if he’d heard of _anything_ , honestly, but he didn’t want to belabor the point, so he nodded anyway. 

“That’s good,” Nurse Holly replied, oblivious. “After all, the legends say that the Dark Knight Sparda once lived in Red Grave City — that’s down on the Southern coast of Nascita, mind you. It’s also where the famous Legendary Devil Hunter, Dante, came from. In fact, Dante even claims to be the Son of Sparda, himself.”

Holly chuckled lightly. “But, of course, that’d be ridiculous. Everyone knows that Sparda is nothing more than a fairy tale.”

Much to his surprise, V found that he was still familiar with the legends of Sparda, despite not remembering where or how he acquired this knowledge. Huh, so he might have no memories, but he at least retained his common sense; that’s good to know, he supposed. He wasn’t completely in the dark, then — just in the dark with a dimly lit flashlight. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” Nurse Holly asked politely, awakening V from his thoughts. 

V’s gaze drifted over to his goth clothing, and his eyes widened a little when he remembered that his cane wasn’t with them. “Where’s my staff?”

“We locked it in a drawer behind the front desk,” Holly explained. “It appeared to be very valuable, and we didn’t want to risk having it stolen while you were bedridden. We’ll return it to you once you’re discharged, though, don’t worry.” 

V gave the nurse a small nod in relief. But, in reality, he was far from relieved. This was evident in his third and final question, which filled him with so much anxiety that he was almost too afraid to ask: “Nurse Holly...what’s going to happen to me?” 

“Well, our first priority is to bring your vitals back up to normal levels,” Holly answered. “And make sure you’re healthy physically.”

The nurse’s smile soon faded, however, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “But after that...I’m afraid I don’t know. I’m sorry.” 

V nodded his head understandingly, though his eyes avoided the nurse’s. Subconsciously, he lifted his free arm and ran his fingers through his shaggy white hair, contemplating what he had just learned. Meanwhile, the doctors continued to scream stressfully at each other outside, shouting over the sound of countless stretchers being wheeled down the halls.

Nurse Holly winced when she heard Dr. Morales, her superior, shout a rather colorful obscenity at a lab technician. “Sorry about all the ruckus. Ever since the Qliphoth incident, we’ve had a massive influx of patients, and everyone’s been a little on-edge.” 

Holly bowed her head apologetically. “But don’t worry, I promise that you’re in excellent care.” 

V paused for a moment. The Qliphoth...why did that sound so familiar to him? He glanced around the room until he found his answer — a rack of old newspapers on the wall, dated back to around a month ago. From where he sat, he could just barely make out the headline: _Qliphoth Containment Finally Begins; Long Road to Recovery Ahead._

Nurse Holly turned to leave the room, but before she opened the door, she asked: “Is there anything else I can do for you, V?” 

Immediately V pointed towards the newspaper rack and politely asked for a copy. Nurse Holly nodded and grabbed the latest issue from June 16th, apologizing for not having anything more recent before handing the newspaper to V. 

Sure enough, the Qliphoth’s aftermath was the main story, taking up almost all of the front page. A grainy picture of the demonic tree was front-and-center, followed by the caption: “The Qliphoth (shown above) as of June 15th. Photo courtesy of Nicoletta Goldstein.” V proceeded to skim through the article, but his eyes kept wandering back to that photo. Something about this tree felt strangely familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it…

Nurse Holly, noticing V’s inquisition, released her hand from the door handle and sat herself down in front of him. She didn’t know much about the Qliphoth, but she figured she could explain it to the best of her ability. 

“Curious about the Qliphoth incident, huh?” Holly chuckled slightly, despite the heaviness of the topic, in an effort to keep the mood light. “Let me tell you, it sure wasn’t pretty. Apparently it lived off of human blood — sucked people up with its roots ‘til they were bone dry. It practically wiped Red Grave City right off the map.” 

“I’ve heard about this,” V whispered in bewilderment. “I know all of this somehow....” 

Nurse Holly shrugged. “It’s been all over the news for the last month, so I wouldn’t be too surprised. That tree may have its roots in Red Grave, but the whole country’s been affected by it in some way or another.” 

All the while, V continued to stare at the picture, puzzled beyond belief. This felt way more than just familiar, at this point; something about this tree was really important to him, he just knew it. 

“Where did it come from?” V continued to press Nurse Holly, desperate for answers. “It couldn’t have just sprung up out of nowhere. Someone must’ve planted it.”

Holly scratched her chin thoughtfully as she attempted to recall it. “Hm...actually, now that you mention it, I do remember hearing about a demon erecting the Qliphoth — something about growing some evil fruit to make himself more powerful. The devil hunters have some fancy name for him, but I’ve only heard people refer to him as the Demon King.” 

V’s eyes widened. “The Demon King…”

V looked down at the picture again, and suddenly a memory awakened deep within his mind. He could feel the hospital room fading from his senses as a series of visions flashed before his eyes. Before he knew it, he was whisked away to Red Grave City, exactly as it was one month ago. He saw the Qliphoth at base level, its sheer size dwarfing even the tallest of buildings. A white light flashed before his eyes, and now he saw the Qliphoth from within, the branches twisting and coiling around a sinister-looking fruit made from blood. Another flash, and he saw what he now knew to be the Demon King, screaming savagely for power. One last flash, and suddenly, he saw himself, standing before the Demon King with his cane in hand. 

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it ended. V snapped back to reality in an instant, his breathing heavy and his eyes popped open like firecrackers.

“I...I was there,” V whispered breathlessly. “I-i saw the Qliphoth...I was there when it happened!” 

Nurse Holly was taken aback, and immediately she began to ask follow-up questions. “How much do you remember? Was there anyone else with you? Do you know why you were there?” 

“I don’t remember anything else,” V shook his head quickly, before Holly could get too excited. “I just remember seeing it in-person.” 

V glanced down at the picture once more, his mind racing. “All I know is that, for now...this is the only clue I have about my past.” 

“This is an incredible development.” Holly sprang up from the chair and practically flung herself into the doorway. “I have to tell Dr. Morales about this right away! I’ll be right back.” 

Nurse Holly scrambled out the door and sprinted down the hallway, so caught up in her haste that she almost forgot to close the door behind her. All the while, V continued to pour over the article, left with far more questions than answers. 


	3. Mixed Emotions

After a long and grueling day of devil hunting, Nico finally parked the van at a rest stop on the outskirts of Tumult City, just as night began to fall. She and Nero had been on their feet since morning, chasing down what felt like hundreds of lesser demons around the city. It was well after sunset when they finally called it quits, stopping only because the streetlights were broken and they were struggling to see in the waning sunlight. Still, they had made tremendous progress that day; as they departed from greater Tumult City into the outskirts, Nico proudly estimated that the main Hell Breach was at least 75% contained, and only 3 or 4 lesser breaches remained untouched. If they played their cards right, they could contain all of the breaches in Tumult City as early as tomorrow afternoon.

But that would have to wait for another day. For now, Nico and Nero were both too exhausted to even think about fighting demons. As soon as Nico pulled into the rest stop and hooked up the van to the generator, the demon-hunting duo went straight to bed, retreating to the sleeping quarters in the back of the van. It was nothing to brag home about — just two pull-out futon beds facing opposite of each other, with a small dresser beside each one — but it was enough for a decent night’s sleep. Nico arranged her bed on the left, Nero on the right, and they both settled down for the night. After all, they’d need a good night’s sleep tomorrow if they wanted to keep their record going strong. 

But for Nico and Nero, their night was anything but restful. 

It was around 2 AM when Nico twitched slightly in her sleep. She was having a nightmare, a recurring horror story that has become more and more frequent as of late. If Nero had been sitting close enough beside her, he would’ve heard her mumble his name quietly — desperately — under her breath.

_Nico found herself in the middle of an overgrown valley, the trees and shrubs so wild and unkempt from centuries of neglect that one could easily mistake it for a forest. Wild grass rose up well above Nico’s knees, and the canopy overhead blocked out the sun. It was so dark and murky in the valley, Nico couldn’t even tell if it was day or night. Strange grunts and snarls echoed eerily through the bushes, so primordial and forgotten that not even Nico could identify their source._

_But that wasn’t what frightened Nico the most._

_Already, as she took a tentative step forward, she could hear the crunching of bones underneath her feet. Nico’s heart leapt into her mouth as she slowly, reluctantly, looked down, and she visibly flinched when she saw it. Beneath her foot was the skeletal remains of someone’s leg, the tibia snapped under the weight of her boots. She knew better than to look at the rest of the corpse, but her eyes betrayed her conscience, slowly tracing up the leg towards the rest of the body._

_/Please tell me its at least kinda buried.../ Nico pleaded silently, but, much to her horror, it wasn’t._

_Nico stifled a scream when she saw an almost perfectly intact skeleton before her, bits of carcassed flesh still hanging from its ribcage. Dangling loosely in its empty heart cavity was a long, black sword, gathering dust._

_In an instant, Nico knew exactly where she was, and panic began to rise in her chest. More and more skeletons began to appear around Nico, seemingly out of nowhere: one with a paper bag tied around its neck, another hanging lifelessly from a tall tree branch, another with an empty bottle of cyanide laid broken beside it. It was a chilling scene to take in, even for someone as tough as Nico._

_Suddenly, Nico could hear a voice echo through the valley, so close and yet so far away: “Nico…”_

_All at once, Nico’s eyes widened. That was Nero’s voice. Desperately Nico searched for the source of the voice, but the echoing made it almost impossible to pinpoint._

_“Nico...I’m sorry…” Nero’s voice sounded again, this time from behind._

_Nico nearly tripped over a tree root as she turned around and sprinted in the opposite direction, frantically following the sound of her best friend’s voice. “Nero? Nero, where are you?!”_

_All the while, Nero’s voice continued to taunt her, growing louder in her mind but never seeming to get any closer: “I can’t protect you...can’t protect anyone…I’m a failure...”_

_“You’re not a failure!” Nico screamed feebly into the wind. “Nero, please! Answer me!”_

_Dozens of bones began to pile up around Nico, covering the entire ground. Higher, higher the sea of skeletons rose, until she practically had to swim through them to move forward. Their bony fingers snagged in her frizzy black hair, their hollow skulls rattled eerily as she shoved them aside. But still she pushed onward, following the sound of Nero’s laments._

_“I’m not strong enough…” The voice continued, and somehow Nico knew she was getting close. “I can’t do this anymore...I’m...not strong enough…”_

_Finally, she found Nero standing unusually still in front of a grassy moor, with his gun, Blue Rose, held tightly in his hand. Smiling with relief, Nico waded through the skeletons towards her partner, the sea of bones around her gradually thinning out the closer she got to the moor. But as she drew closer to Nero, Nico began to realize that something was very wrong. His normally bright blue eyes were dulled over, unblinking, staring almost lifelessly into Nico’s soul. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence, the once lively and fervid devil hunter now soulless and almost zombie-like._

_“Nero!” Nico called out to Nero, tripping and struggling against the thousands of skeletons around her. “Nero, what’s wrong?”_

_Wordlessly, emotionlessly, Nero lifted Blue Rose towards his forehead, his expression never changing from its blank, soulless stare._

_“NERO!” Nico screamed, and she doubled her pace, scrambling to reach her best friend in time. “PLEASE, DON’T DO IT!”_

_But Nero’s blank expression never faltered, not even as his finger hovered over the trigger. His eyes never blinked, never breaking from his ten-mile stare. It was like he was being possessed, his movements foreign and not his own, as if they were being guided by a cruel and heartless puppetmaster._

_She was so close, the sea of bones finally receding to her ankles. She was barely 10 feet away, at this point, so close that she could almost reach out and grab Nero’s hand. Finally, as a last resort, she threw herself forward, desperately reaching to grab Nero by the shirt collar and pull him back to safety._

_But she was too late._

_Nero pulled the trigger as soon as she leapt forward, his body falling backwards lifelessly into the moor. Nico’s fingertips just barely grazed Nero’s sweatjacket, but she couldn’t grab on. Nico fell face-first into the muddy ground, watching helplessly as her best friend sunk beneath the murky waters._

_“NERO!!”_

_Tears streamed down Nico’s face, and she scrambled her way to the water’s edge. Frantically, she searched the water for Nero’s corpse, screaming out his name and crying hysterically._

_“NERO!” Nico cried, hoping and pleading for an answer that would never come. “NERO!”_

Nico began to toss and turn violently in her sleep, muttering: “Nero...Nero…!”

“NERO!” Nico screamed suddenly, sitting bolt upright in her futon bed. 

Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, and her heart was pounding so hard that she was amazed it didn’t give out. Struggling to keep her breathing even, she forced herself to look around the sleeping quarters of the van, taking in every last nook and cranny until she finally began to relax. 

_/Calm down, Nico./_ Nico shook her head as if to clear it. _/It was just that damn nightmare again. It’s not real. None of it was real. Nero’s fine./_

Nico glanced over at Nero’s side of the room for reassurance, hoping to see a mob of white hair sticking out from underneath his blanket. But Nico’s heart sank when she found his futon bed completely empty, the black blanket thrown to the side.

Nico ran to the front of the van and checked the cabinet for Nero’s weapons, and when she found that Red Queen and Blue Rose were both missing, Nico groaned. “Dammit, not again…” 

Throwing on her leather jacket over her pajamas and quickly slipping on her boots, Nico ran outside and searched the rest stop for Nero. When her efforts turned up fruitless, she fearfully glanced behind her at the unkempt valley to the North, but she quickly shook the thought from her head. Nero wouldn’t have run off that far...would he?

Thankfully, Nico’s worries were put to rest when she heard Nero’s voice in the opposite direction — towards the riverbed to the South. Thanking her lucky stars, Nico trekked through the small patch of wilderness until she found Nero by the creek, hacking away at the trees with Red Queen and Blue Rose. 

“The hell’re you doin’ up this late at night?” Nico demanded, though she already knew full well what his answer was going to be. After all, he always used the same lame excuse. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Nero replied curtly, slashing the hanging branches with Red Queen. Yep, there’s that lame excuse again. “Figured I may as well train.” 

Nero refused to admit the real reason why he was doing this — to release his pent-up anger and aggression. 

Still, Nico continued to press him. “You must be one helluva night owl, then. You’ve been sneakin’ off to go ‘train’ almost every night!”

“It’s fine. I’ve only done it a few times,” Nero spoke through gritted teeth, biting back his building frustration by firing two charged bullets into the tree’s trunk. She just had to bring this up right now, didn’t she? 

“A few nights? Try over a week.” Nico crossed her arms. “And the other night you didn’t make it back until sunrise! You ain’t a vampire, dumbass. Demons need to sleep, too.” 

“I told you, it’s fine,” Nero grimaced in reply, slashing at the tree with Red Queen once more. “I just need to tire myself out a little, okay? I’ll head back in a few minutes. Just let me finish up.” 

“Fine,” Nico huffed, raising her hands as if to surrender. She knew something was wrong, but there was no sense in arguing with someone as stubborn as Nero. 

As she turned around and started to retreat, however, she called out over her shoulder: “Just be careful, all right? You shouldn’t be pushin’ yourself so hard. You could wind up gettin’ hurt, y’know, or worse.” 

The fiery hellstorm burning in Nero’s soul seemed to flare up at Nico’s statement, though he hid it well until she was far out of sight. _This_ was pushing himself too hard? What the hell was that supposed to mean? If she thought this was too much for him to handle, then what about the real demon hordes? The bosses? Were those too much for him, too? Did she really think he was that... _weak_? 

All the while, his inner storm continued to strengthen, fueled by his anger and frustration. Nero continued to hack away at his targets with Red Queen and Blue Rose, his rage building with each bullet fired and with each strike dealt. The fire was consuming him, shutting off his sense of judgment; he could feel himself losing control, his emotions blinding his sight in a curtain of red. All of this rage, fury, anger...sorrow, betrayal, hurt...it was overwhelming. Finally, the storm inside of him became too much to handle; he had to let it out. 

Grabbing a hold of Red Queen, Nero charged as much demonic energy as he could muster into the blade, coating it, overloading it with power. Before he could even process what he was doing, he flung the sword into the tree at full force, every negative emotion he had accumulated over the past few nights channeled into the attack. The blade struck the tree with an insane amount of force, and a massive shockwave of energy surged through the towering oak, rattling it all the way down to its roots. Finally, Nero’s inner storm finally began to at ease, allowing him to think clearly once more. But only when the ground beneath his feet began to tremble did Nero realize what he had done. 

Eyes widening, Nero watched in horror as the tree — a massive oak standing over 50 feet tall — toppled over with an earth-rattling thud. He was amazed it didn’t wake up the whole neighborhood. Biting his lip, Nero approached the uprooted tree and looked down at Red Queen, and all at once his anger dissipated, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of guilt. 

He just...destroyed it, didn’t he? He killed it for no reason. That tree could have been centuries old, for all he knew, only to be knocked down by some careless idiot who couldn’t control his anger. He killed it, just like his father killed all those innocent people in Red Grave City — but this time, he had no one to blame but himself.

Nero cursed under his breath and fell to his knees, gripping his head in frustration. Why was this happening to him? Why was he always so angry anymore? He always had anger issues — that much was obvious — but it was never this bad. Every day, it was becoming harder and harder for him to control his emotions. Why was it so easy for him to lose control, to be blinded by anger and hurt, to destroy?

Why was he starting to act like…?

Nero furiously shook the thought from his mind. No, he would never become like his father — he was nothing like that bastard, and he never will be. 

_/I’ll figure this out,/_ Nero assured himself. _/I just need to...need to.../_

Nero sighed in defeat. _/I don’t know what I need to do./_

Shaking his head, Nero finally stood up and pulled Red Queen out of the tree’s trunk, sheathing his melee weapon with a sigh. He began to meander his way back to the rest stop, hoping and pleading that he’ll fall back asleep but knowing full well that he won’t. 

Little did he know, however, that the toppled tree had fallen right over the human-hell barrier, and a Hell Breach was just beginning to form…

* * *

As the day at Impetus City General Hospital progressed, so too did V’s physical health. His health counts had risen exponentially over the course of just a few hours, and his IVs were removed by late afternoon. His strength was quickly returning, as well, and by sundown he was able to walk down the halls without support. By the time night had fallen, V had almost completely recovered from his initial panic attacks and symptoms of shock, and he was finally beginning to feel like himself again. 

...Whoever “himself” was supposed to be. 

This was the problem that still bugged V, the elephant in the room that no one but him would acknowledge. Sure, his physical health was improving, but mentally V was just as frustrated as the frazzled doctors around him. For one thing, he still had no idea who he was, where he came from, or how he got here. Secondly, he had no idea what was going to happen to him, now that his physical wounds were healed. And, most pressingly, his mind kept wandering back to the Qliphoth, so far the only remnant of his past that he could remember. Somehow, he knew that this demon tree was the key to unlocking his past...but how will he unlock it?

V was resting in his hospital room when Dr. Morales and Nurse Holly returned, performing one last check-in before closing up for the night. The wall clock to V’s right read 10:30 PM, but the dark circles under his caretakers’ eyes read the long-awaited end of a seemingly endless shift. He wondered how many other patients they had to worry about today…

“We’ve come to inform you on your recent progress,” Dr. Morales began with a sigh, smiling handsomely to hide his tired eyes. “As well as discuss the next steps for your treatment.” 

“Physically, you’re healthy as a horse.” Nurse Holly smiled tiredly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But unfortunately, we still have your amnesia to worry about. You have a long road to recovery ahead before we can allow you to be discharged.”

“Precisely,” Dr. Morales added, nodding to his assistant before turning to address V once more. “Which means that treating your amnesia is our next priority.” 

V’s face lit up at the doctor’s words, and he nodded eagerly in agreement. Finally, they were going to address the real problem here. 

“What do you have planned for treatment?” V asked.

“Well, our first priority is to surround you with familiar elements,” Dr. Morales began, pushing up his glasses. “Starting with your support system. This could be your family or anyone else who was close to you prior to the amnesia. Once we locate and contact them, we will shift our focus to reintroducing you to your previous environments, such as your hometown. Then we can begin occupational and psychotherapy.” 

“In other words,” Nurse Holly translated. “The most important aspect of recovery — with any condition — is to be in a safe environment and have a strong support system helping you along the way. That’s our first priority.”

V nodded silently. He was itching to say something, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. 

So, instead, he asked: “How are you going to do that?” 

“We haven’t decided yet,” Dr. Morales admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “But I assure you, all of us are working hard to find the right solution. I’m meeting with my colleagues after this to further discuss our course of action. We’ll make sure to keep you informed.” 

Dr. Morales turned to leave, Nurse Holly following close behind, and V’s heart leapt into his mouth. Now was his chance. He needed to say what was on his mind, the thought that’s been plaguing him ever since he read that newspaper article about the Qliphoth. He knew it was risky, but he had to do it, or else he might never find the answers he needed. 

Finally, when Dr. Morales was nearly halfway out the door, V dared to say it. 

“INEEDTOGOTOREDGRAVECITY.” 

The words tumbled out of V’s mouth in a hurried rush, as if they would evaporate into thin air if he waited too long. Nurse Holly looked completely taken aback, and Dr. Morales froze in his tracks. 

When Dr. Morales’s eyes met with V’s, V took in a deep, shuddery breath before explaining himself as firmly as he could: “I need to go back to Red Grave City, to the Qliphoth. I don’t know how, or why, but it feels really important to me....and just looking at month-old pictures isn’t going to help me figure it out. I need to see it for myself.” 

Dr. Morales’s eyes widened. “W-what? Absolutely not!” 

“But Doctor,” V bargained. “With all due respect...this is the only clue any of us have about my past. How am I supposed to be ‘surrounded by familiarity’ if I’m on the opposite side of the country from where I came from?”

“No. It’s far too dangerous.” Dr. Morales replied firmly. “Besides, it’s impossible for us to transfer you there, anyway. The entire city is under quarantine until the Qliphoth is contained, and the main access bridge is compromised. We would have to wait until both the quarantine is lifted and the bridge is repaired before we can transfer you. The process could easily take months.” 

V’s face fell flat at the news. _Months?_

Noticing how heartbroken he was, Nurse Holly quickly attempted to lift his spirits. “But there is a second option! If you‘re sure that’s where you came from, we can compare your fingerprints to birth certificates in Red Grave and try to find a match. Or we could analyze your DNA to trace your relatives, and we can use this to identify your family.” 

“Really?” V perked up a bit at this. “How long will that take?” 

Holly’s smile faded, and she bowed her head apologetically. “It would also take several weeks. I’m sorry…”

V bit his lip, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair as his mind raced. Several weeks? Months? There’s no way he could wait that long. And the thought of being stuck in this hospital bed for that long...it was agonizing. If this happened anywhere else, he’d be considered a prisoner. 

He had to fight back; there was no other option. 

“But you can’t just keep me here like some hostage!” V protested. He was becoming visibly upset. “Amnesia may be mental, but it’s still a serious illness. And like any disease, it gets harder to fix the longer it’s left untreated.”

Dr. Morales was taken aback by this. “How do you know this?” 

“I may have lost my memory, but I’m not stupid.” V rolled his eyes in annoyance. “And you’re missing the point. In case it wasn’t obvious, I have strong memories tied to the Qliphoth, and photographs can only bring back so much. I can’t recall memories about a giant demon tree when it’s not there anymore.” 

“He’s right, you know,” Nurse Holly piped up suddenly, taking V by surprise. He wasn’t expecting her to stand up for him like this. “We can’t just wait until the quarantine is lifted to send V back to Red Grave; the Qliphoth will be contained before he ever gets the chance to see it!” 

Dr. Morales pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t send a patient to Red Grave if there’s no access to the city, Holly! Dammit, doesn’t anyone bother to listen?!” 

“Emergency services are still allowed,” Holly reminded her superior none-too-gently, crossing her arms. “And you can still enter the town by ferry.” 

“He needs to stay in Impetus City Hospital where we can care for him,” Dr. Morales replied firmly, glowering at his assistant. “It’s a DEMON TREE, for Sparda’s sake! The only hospital in Red Grave is destroyed, Holly! There’s no way he’d survive on his own. Get the picture?!”

Normally, Nurse Holly would’ve bowed her head in submission and apologized profusely to her superior. But she was getting brave, at this point, and she dared to return Dr. Morales’s steely gaze with a glare of her own. 

“He is in perfect physical health, and his brain scans came back negative for any signs of damage. And, since you clearly weren’t paying attention when I told you this morning, V was there when the Qliphoth was at its peak. Given that he’s still alive, it seems to me that he’s perfectly capable of traveling to Red Grave City.”

Holly took a brave step forward. “Get the picture?”

Dr. Morales’s nostrils flared out dangerously in response, and finally he snapped. 

“HE COULD BE THE SON OF SPARDA, FOR ALL I CARE!” Dr. Morales bellowed, his tired eyes raging to life and glinting dangerously with anger. “BUT WITHOUT HIS MEMORIES, HE WOULD ONLY WIND UP GETTING HIMSELF KILLED! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT, NURSE HOLLY?!” 

Nurse Holly’s confidence seemed to crumble at Dr. Morales’s words, and she collapsed inward on herself until she was bowing her head in submission once more. V could hear her mumble an apology towards the floor, her eyes squeezed shut as if bracing herself for an impact.

“No…” Nurse Holly replied quietly, submissively — obediently. “It’s not…”

“Exactly.” Dr. Morales crossed his arms sternly. “Which is why Patient V is staying right here. He is not to leave this room under any circumstance without a nurse present to chaperone him. I’m also ordering security to be on high-alert, in case he gets any ideas of sneaking off.”

“And as for you—”

He drew himself to his full height and glared down at Holly, and Holly seemed to shrink back in fear. “You are no longer allowed to interact with this patient, per my orders. And if I see you breaking this conduct in any way...I will not hesitate to terminate you.”

Dr. Morales turned and left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind him. V could hear him already barking commands at the security staff, suffocating any chance he had left of escaping this prison. V sighed and looked down at the ground in defeat. Looks like he was stuck here, whether he liked it or not. 

But Nurse Holly, however, her heart breaking for the poor boy, ran over and gave V a warm and comforting hug. She was even more upset than he was, honestly, and V could hear Holly’s voice quiver slightly as she fought to hold back tears. 

“I‘m sorry I couldn’t do more to help,” Holly whispered, sighing a long, shuddery sigh. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” V assured her, hoping to be of some comfort for her, as well. After all, she was the first person he met who actually tried to help him. “You did everything you could, and that’s all that matters. I’ll be okay, I promise.” 

Nurse Holly eventually retracted from the hug, wiping her eyes stubbornly with the sleeves of her scrubs. V looked absolutely heartbroken to see her go, but he gave Holly a respectful nod and thanked her regardless. Reluctantly, Holly opened the door and made her leave, muttering one last apology over her shoulder before closing the door gently behind her. 

V kept a solemn look on his face until he knew she was out of earshot, and only then did he allow himself to crack a mischievous grin. Opening his palm, V looked down at the set of keys to the front desk, which he had pick-pocketed from Nurse Holly during the hug. 

_/I may be no Son of Sparda,/_ V thought to himself. _/But if you think I’m some perfect, obedient angel...well, you’re dead wrong./_


	4. Who am I?

For the next few hours, V carefully conjured up an escape plan in his mind. He was not about to let that dictator doctor trap him here; through hell or high water, he was going to Red Grave City and figuring out his past. The trick, of course, was to do it without getting caught. With the heightened security, it would be difficult, but not impossible; he just had to plan everything perfectly. 

Finally, around 1 AM, he was ready to spring into action. Almost defiantly, V leapt from his hospital bed and discarded his ugly surgical gown. He grabbed his black clothes from the counter and quickly threw them on, smiling at their familiar feel.

The plan was simple: find a gap in the guard’s routines, sneak up to the front desk, steal back his cane, and then sneak out the front door before anyone notices he’s gone. The trickiest part, of course, was timing it just right. 

Pressing his ear to the door, V listened for the shuffling of the security guards’ feet across the tile floor, gradually memorizing their routine. It would be a tight squeeze, V analyzed, but if he was quick about it, he should be able to steal back his staff and make it out the front door with about 15 seconds of leeway. As long as nothing stalled him, he should be fine. Patiently, V waited for the gap in the guards’ routine, and once it came, he snuck out of his room and closed the door silently behind him. 

It was extremely dark, the only light source coming from the front door in the distance. Thank goodness he was wearing black. Slowly but surely, V made his way towards the front desk, keeping in mind the guards lingering in the distance. Occasionally, he would duck behind a piece of equipment or press himself against the wall when a guard came a little too close, but thankfully, none of them took notice. So far, so good. 

Finally, he reached the front desk, where his cane was locked away. Avoiding the security’s eyes, V ducked down underneath the desk and quietly fished out the keys. The good news: there was only one possible drawer the cane could’ve been in. The bad news: there were at least 10 different keys on the keyring. He was going to have to make this quick, or else he’ll miss the gap and get caught. He’ll just have to hope that luck is on his side. 

V hurriedly tried each key on the lock, but he was quick to realize that luck definitely was not on his side. One, two, three keys didn’t fit, and as he tried and failed to turn the fourth key, V’s heart froze in his chest. This was taking way longer than expected; his 15 seconds of leeway were vanishing before his eyes, in sync with his freedom. 

Silently, V prayed to every deity he could think of for the next key to work, and thankfully, it did. V’s eyes lit up as the key turned perfectly, and within seconds he opened the drawer to find none other than his ivory staff. 

V grinned when he found it. _/Jackpot./_

Quickly, he snatched the staff from the drawer and stood up to make his leave. He still had 5 seconds remaining; he had to run if he wanted to make it. V leapt over the front desk, his gateway to freedom just 20 feet away. But V had forgotten to discard the keys, instead stashing them away in his pocket without thinking. So, much to his horror, the keys jangled loudly as he jumped over the desk, like alarm bells signaling his presence. 

_/Shit./_

That was all that V had time to think before the first guard noticed his presence.

“HEY!” The guard shouted from behind him, and V turned towards him like a deer caught in headlights. 

Desperate, V sprinted towards the front door, but another guard practically flew in from a corridor and blocked the entrance. 

_/Shiiiit./_

V knew that this could’ve happened, but he didn’t have a Plan B. So, he did the next best thing: run for his life. He turned around on his heels and sprinted down the first hallway he could find, praying to all those deities again that there was some sort of emergency exit down this corridor. The good news: there was. The bad news: it was barricaded by yet another guard. 

_/SHIIIT./_

Cursing under his breath, V turned down another hallway back towards his room. If he could find his room number, he could simply lock the door behind him and wait until the guards dispersed; if anyone asked, he’ll simply say that he was just trying to get his staff back, since he was no longer bedridden and there was no need to have it locked away anymore. It wasn’t a good Plan B — merely grasping at straws on V’s part, since he wasn’t even sure those doors could lock from the inside — but it was better than nothing. 

Finally, he reached the end of the hall, but immediately he wished he hadn’t. They had him cornered, now, with three guards blocking all three corridors around him. His only possible escape was the room to his left, which wasn’t his and was probably locked anyhow. 

As the guards began to close in on V, panic started to rise in his chest yet again, only now at a decibel ten times worse than before. He could feel his heartbeat practically double in pace, and the grip on his cane tightened until his knuckles were white as bone. Little did he know, the edges of his cane were starting to glow white…

The guards were within tackling range, at this point, and they were gearing up to pin V down. V closed his eyes and fell to his knees, clinging to his only possession instinctively as he prepared for the worst. 

The moment his cane touched the ground, however, a white light exploded from its base suddenly, illuminating the dark hallway and catching the guards off-guard. The light rose up and enveloped V like an eggshell, so white and blinding that the guards were forced to look away. 

Meanwhile, V couldn’t see anything, not even his hand in front of his face. White noise flooded his eardrums in a deafening roar as his whole body went numb. It felt like he was dissolving, as if every last inch of him was evaporating into something lighter than air. He couldn’t even process what was happening, at this point, but he didn’t care. Anything was better than being locked up like a criminal; anywhere was better than here. 

So, he welcomed the sensation, surrendering himself to the light, allowing every atom in his body to blow apart and scatter themselves in the wind. Then, in less than the blink of an eye, the sensation reversed; he could feel himself becoming whole again, and the blinding light rapidly faded. He could feel his senses slowly returning: first touch, then smell, followed by sight and sound. The entire phenomenon took place in a fraction of a second, but to V, it felt like an eternity. 

When at last the strange energy dissipated, V tentatively opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was grass — not tile — beneath his feet, the cool morning dew tickling his skin softly as the blades tangled themselves in the throngs of his sandals. He could feel the gentle sea breeze blowing in from Impetus City’s shores, tousling through his white hair and lining his bare arms with goosebumps. Somehow, V had found his way outside, much to his bewilderment. 

_/What the hell?/_ V glanced around the grassy cliffside in confusion, his brain struggling to process it. _/How did I...?/_

Shaking the dizziness from his head, V stood himself up with his cane and warily looked around. The cliffside, he realized, sat on the edge of a massive forest that went on for miles behind him. In front of him, he could peer over the cliff’s edge and see a gorgeous view of Impetus City; if he wasn’t so shaken up by what had just happened, V might have paused to enjoy it. But instead, his eyes scanned fearfully over the cityscape until he found Impetus City General Hospital, which sat right below the dropoff just a few hundred yards away. 

V’s brain was practically fried, at this point. This didn’t make any sense...he was cornered, and he was nowhere near the exit. There's no way he could’ve escaped. And yet, here he was, overlooking the medical prison he was trapped in just seconds before. He had no idea what he did to get himself here, nor how he did it...but when he heard the alarm bells sound from the hospital below, V simply considered it a blessing and fled. 

* * *

The next morning, Nico pulled out of the rest stop bright and early and drove into greater Tumult City, dragging along an exhausted Nero in tow. Nero, who had a grand total of 3 hours of sleep the night before, couldn’t have been more exhausted, slumped down into his passenger seat as he struggled to keep his eyes open. But the young devil hunter shrugged it off, not thinking much of it; he’s run on less sleep before. And besides, he’ll wake up once he gets into battle and the adrenaline starts kicking in. 

When Nero stifled yet another yawn, however, the corners of Nico’s mouth curled into a smug little grin. As concerned as she was about her friend’s health, she couldn’t resist saying I told you so. 

“Wow, you must be bone tired, darlin’,” Nico quipped, a sarcastic edge to her voice. “Looks like all that trainin’ is startin’ to creep up on you. Huh, now I wonder who coulda predicted that…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Nero rolled his eyes. “I haven’t been getting enough sleep. You were right and I was wrong. There, I said it. Happy now?”

“Sure am,” Nico replied snarkily. “‘Bout time something I said went through that thick skull’a yours.” 

“Yeah…” Nero shrugged, his voice trailing off. 

Nico noticed the change in his voice, and she nervously bit her lip. Ever since those recurring nightmares started up a few weeks back, Nico couldn’t help but notice a change in Nero’s attitude, and she had been keeping a close eye on his emotions ever since. He wasn’t still upset about last night, was he? Nico took her eyes off the road for a moment and glanced over at Nero, hoping to catch a glimpse of his facial expression. 

When she found him leaning back against the headrest, however, with his eyes slowly closing, Nico scoffed. 

“Wake up, asshole!” Nico smacked Nero none-too-gently on the shoulder. “We don’t have time for you to doze off!”

“Huh?” Nero nearly jumped out of his skin in response. “I’m awake!” 

“Yep. Uh-huh. Sure you are.” Nico rolled her eyes playfully. “Now hurry up and turn on the daily assignment. It’s almost 8 o’clock.” 

Nero nodded tiredly before tuning into the local police scanner, wiping his face in a vain attempt to wake himself up. Silence fell between the two of them as they waited patiently for their daily devil hunter assignment. 

Finally, at 8:00 sharp, the audio cut to a pre-recording of the Prime Minister, and the message began: “Greetings, devil hunters of Nascita. This is Prime Minister Harold Hartman, reporting the daily assignment for your district. This message will be repeated at the top of every hour. As always, existing Hell Breaches will be categorized as either Green Zone, Yellow Zone, or Red Zone based on size and level of containment.” 

Nero turned the radio up slightly as the Prime Minister began to rattle off the details. Nico and Nero already had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say: they were more-or-less going to be in the Green Zone for all of the Hell Breaches, indicating minimal size and high level of containment. In other words, it should be an easy day for them, with very few (if any) serious threats expected. 

However, the assignment said otherwise. 

”WARNING: A Red Zone breach has developed in your area. I repeat, a Red Zone breach has developed in your area.”

“What?” Nico turned up the radio even more. “That can’t be right...!”

The message continued: “A Red Zone indicates large breach size and little to no containment. Expect a significant increase in the level of demon encounters today, as well as an increased chance of high-level threats.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Nico shook her head. “None of the breaches yesterday were this bad. How...?!” 

The message continued, despite Nico’s befuddlement. “Sources indicate that this Red Zone breach formed overnight at approximately 3:00 AM local time. Local eyewitnesses have reported sightings of the new breach in the northwest outskirts of Tumult City district.” 

Nero and Nico’s eyes both snapped open in an instant.

“Northwest outskirts?” Nero’s heart sank to his stomach. He had a really bad feeling about this… 

“That’s where we parked the van last night!” Nico grabbed the wheel with both hands and prepared to make a U-turn. “Hold on, I’m turnin’ us back around.”

Nero looked out at the highway in front of them— two lanes of heavy traffic in each direction, divided by a median— and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What?!” 

Before Nero could protest any further, Nico flung the van through the median onto the other highway, cutting off two very disgruntled semi-trucks in the process. Then she floored it, speeding down the winding road and making turns on two wheels. It was incredibly reckless, and Nero swore he saw his life flash before his eyes at least once or twice, but they arrived at the rest stop in record time. Immediately, Nero hopped out of the van and sprinted into the patch of woods to the South, leaving Nico struggling to keep up. He had a gut feeling that he knew where this breach was, but he hoped and prayed he was wrong…

But, much to his horror, he was right. Hovering just inches above the uprooted oak tree sat a massive Hell Breach, almost double the size of the main breach from yesterday. The human-hell barrier, normally invisible to the human eye, now bore a wide, gaping hole the size of a 5-story building. It wasn’t as stable of an opening as that of a Hell Gate, of course, but the sheer size of the breach spoke for itself: this was definitely a serious threat. 

Curiously, Nico approached the breach and examined its outer edge. Smoke debris extended outwards from it in a 5 ft radius, partially exposing the barrier wall. 

“This definitely wasn’t made by a plain ol’ aftershock,” Nico deduced, causing a knot to form in Nero’s stomach. “Normal breaches don’t have smoke debris like this. It almost looks like an explosion of some sort...”

_/Explosion?/_

Every ounce of color drained from Nero’s face until it matched the hair on his head. No...the shockwave from Red Queen couldn’t have been that strong...could it? 

Nico looked back at Nero, and upon seeing the guilty look on his face, her eyes lit up like firecrackers. “What the hell did you do?!” 

Before Nero could even answer, Nico groaned and dragged him into the van before high-tailing it back to greater Tumult City. Soon enough, she was flying down every alley and street she could find, the devil hunting duo searching desperately for any sign of demons. 

But as he took in the city from his passenger window, Nero realized with horror how much damage had already been done. Many of the buildings that were still intact yesterday were now critically damaged. This lead to the formation of several water breaks, gas leaks, and fires throughout the neighborhood. If the city was in bad shape before, it certainly wasn’t doing well now. Nero wanted to punch himself in the face when he saw it; he was supposed to be helping these people, not making things worse. 

But he couldn’t dwell on the ravaged buildings for long. Nico turned roughly around the corner, and they were met face-to-face with a horde of demons, more than double the size and strength of the one Nero had fought the day before.

Nero cursed under his breath before grabbing Red Queen and Blue Rose. “Look like I’ve got my work cut out for me.” 

Nico brought the van to a screeching halt and ran to grab some Devil Breakers from her workstation, but Nero was already halfway out the door before she could even unbuckle her seatbelt. 

“Hey!” Nico shouted, groaning slightly. Every damn time... “You forgot your—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Nero shouted over his shoulder hastily. “I can handle this!” 

Nico opened her mouth to protest, but Nero was already out of earshot, charging head-first into battle. He didn’t even bother to close the van door behind him.

Nico stood there for a moment, her mouth hanging wide open. Needless to say, she was not happy. “ _Did he seriously just...?!_ ” 

Meanwhile, Nero began to hack away at his enemies with Red Queen and Blue Rose, letting his rage carry him in battle. There were about 30 demons total, and only five of which Empusas; the rest were all either Hell Antenora, Hell Judecca, Pyrobats, or Death Scissors. It didn’t seem like much at first, but with the sheer amount of Hell Antenora going berserk, Hell Judecca teleporting to evade him, and Pyrobats and Death Scissors just being little shits in general, they still managed to give Nero a run for his money. 

After the tenth demon went down, Nero felt something cold run down his forehead, and internally he began to panic. Sweat? He’d never broken a sweat this early into battle before. Was he really that worn out? In his right mind, Nero knew it was because he was sleep-deprived and low on energy to begin with, but the rest of his mind kept repeating his thoughts from last night, from when Nico told him to not push himself too hard. Looks like she was right, in a sense. All this training — all these emotions he couldn’t control — it was making him weak. 

He could feel his vitality begin to wear down after the 15th enemy, and Nero was visibly frightened at this point. There’s no way he could finish them off in this state. He knew what he needed to do, and he had two options: either swallow his pride and ask Nico for a Devil Breaker, despite claiming he could handle this on his own; or go into Devil Trigger, which he still couldn’t summon on command and barely had control over. 

Obviously, Nero chose the second option. 

Nico groaned in frustration as Nero continued to wear himself out. She wished she could just run straight up to those demons and sucker-punch them in the throat, but there’s only so much a human could do without weapons of their own. Thankfully, she had grabbed three Devil Breakers from the van — Overture, Gerbera, and Punchline — in case Nero finally got enough sense to ask for help. 

“Yo, Nero!” Nico shouted from across the battlefield, waving a Gerbera in the air. “Need a hand?” 

Normally, Nero would’ve at least given Nico a pity laugh for such a terrible pun, but the stubborn Devil Hunter refused to even look at her. 

“I told you, I‘ve got this!” Nero replied adamantly, firing two bullets straight through a Pyrobat’s head with Blue Rose, knocking down his 16th enemy. _/How is it only the 16th?/_ “There’s only, like, ten of them left!”

“There’s more than ten and you know it,” Nico crossed her arms indignantly. “Face it, dumbass, you need help!”

“I don’t need any help!” Nero practically screamed in reply, practically impaling a Death Scissor with Red Queen. 

Nero could feel his rage building, both from his own perceived weakness and from Nico’s constant nagging. His inner storm began to scrabble at his insides, clawing at the edges of his soul, fighting to break free. But he couldn’t go into DT just yet; he didn’t have enough energy. He needed to add more fuel to the fire. 

As if on cue, a new demon seemed to bust in out of nowhere, a massive insectoid that almost looked like a praying mantis: an Empusa Queen. Nero grinned slightly, despite his vitality continuing to dwindle. This oughta show Nico how strong he really was. 

As the Empusa Queen scuttled across the battlefield, Nero pushed himself to the limit, finishing off the other demons as quickly as possible so he could take the queen on 1-on-1. His vitality was getting dangerously low, at this point, but Nero refused to falter. Any time he felt a rush of lightheadedness or a drop in momentum, he would turn inward to stoke the hellfire raging in his soul. He would remind himself of all the times people had underestimated him, of all the times he had been denounced as dead weight, further fueling his anger. _/Almost there.../_

Suddenly, right as Nero finished off the last enemy from the horde, the Empusa Queen unleashed its grappling attack, aggressively throwing out a blood-sucking limb in hopes of latching onto him. Thankfully, Nero dodged just in time and met the attack with a charged shot from Blue Rose, but he could hear Nico going ballistic. Nero and Nico both knew that, besides Nero’s unreliable Devil Trigger, the only way to escape an Empusa Queen’s life-draining clutch was to use a Devil Breaker and break away. But Nero decided that he would rather gamble with DT, much to Nico’s frustration. 

“Grab a Devil Breaker before they devil break you, dumbass!” Nico shouted from her spot in front of the van, waving a Punchline frantically. If these things weren’t so fragile, she would’ve just thrown the damn thing at Nero, at this point. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” 

That comment was the last stoke Nero’s inner fire needed. The hellstorm was practically bursting at the seams, raging so strongly inside of him that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He unleashed his inner storm from his soul, and in an instant his demonic energy surged through every vein in his body. It was exhilarating, filling Nero with an insane level of energy he had felt only a handful of times before. He didn’t even notice the Empusa Queen grappling onto him, much to Nico’s horror, and dragging him towards its mouth. 

But Nero simply grinned as the demonic energy tipped the balance in his soul, and he felt his form began to change. The Empusa Queen retracted a bit, stunned by the sudden transformation, though its death grip on the devil hunter stayed firm. A strange spectral energy surrounded Nero’s body, and when the light faded, the enemy demon was startled to find that this scrawny human was now a demon, himself. Nero glared at the Empusa Queen in his Devil Trigger, and with a swift, powerful movement from his spectral arms, he broke free from its grip.

Nico almost dropped Punchline in shock. Nero had been unable to summon his DT for almost a month now. In the days following the Qliphoth incident, Nero refused to use it entirely, since the battle against his father was still fresh in his mind. But when he tried to summon it again a week later, he simply couldn’t; somehow, Nero had lost that initial spark that gave him his true Devil Trigger in the first place. So, as pissed as Nico was right now, seeing Nero summon his DT for the first time since the Qliphoth was still remarkable. 

But this DT didn’t seem right to Nico...something felt off about it, though she couldn’t quite grasp what. It wasn’t until she caught a glimpse of Nero’s DT eyes, which were glowing a dangerous red instead of their typical yellow, that her suspicions were confirmed. 

“Nero, be careful!” Nico’s outcries had a nervous edge to them, now. “You’re losing control!” 

Again, Nero didn’t respond — but this time, it wasn’t out of spite. The fire had consumed him, now, shutting off his senses. His surroundings had dissolved into shades of red and a roaring in his ears; all he could focus on was the Empusa Queen in front of him. Letting out an almost feral cry, Nero lunged at the demon and unleashed an all-out attack. Nico recoiled slightly as Nero practically tore the Empusa Queen to shreds with a savage gleam in his eyes. 

_/This isn’t Nero,/_ Nico caught herself thinking. _/This is a monster./_

Finally, Nero dealt the final blow, and the Empusa Queen exploded into red orbs that rained down on the battlefield like pellets of hail. Nero was breathing heavily, his eyes darting across the sea of red in search of another demon, another target — another victim. His eyes met with Nico for a nanosecond, and he felt himself begin to shift into an attack stance…

But, thankfully, he never did. In that exact moment, his inner storm completely ran out of juice, and like a fire at the end of a candle’s wick, it snuffed out. A feeling of lightheadedness overcame Nero as the demonic energy receded, like the crash at the end of a sugar rush. The red in his DT eyes faded until they returned to their normal shade of yellow. Then Nero blinked, and they transformed into his human blue eyes once more. Against his will, he collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, reverting to his human form in the process. He felt completely drained of energy, his muscles so tired that they could barely move. 

_/Dammit,/_ Nero sighed in defeat. _/I still can’t control it./_

Nico ran over to help Nero up on his feet, but Nero declined the offer, stubbornly pulling himself up despite the immense effort it took. Nico scoffed at how bullheaded he was being, even when he could barely sit up on his own. and proceeded to give him an earful. 

“Are you crazy?!” Nico practically screamed at Nero. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” 

“But I didn’t,” Nero reminded her, which only made matters worse. 

It was Nico’s turn to unleash her frustration, now, and she continued to chew Nero out. “It was still one helluva stupid idea! I’ve never seen you do somethin’ so reckless! What were you thinking?” 

Nero didn’t respond. He knew she was right. 

“Exactly. You weren’t thinking.” Nico continued to rant. “You think you can just waltz into battle without your head screwed on right?! You can’t just rely on instinct, Nero!”

“I know, I KNOW!” Nero groaned in reply. His inner fire may have petered out, but he was still as short-tempered as always. 

“Then why the hell did you go into Devil Trigger?” Nico asked exasperatedly. “You know damn well you can’t control it yet. You can barely summon your DT as it is, and this time, you went berserk! You’re lucky you made it out alive!” 

Nero sighed, but didn’t respond. He knew deep down that Nico was right, about everything — but, of course, he didn’t want to admit it. So instead, he stood himself up and returned to the van without another word. stumbling a bit but refusing to let Nico help him. Nico let out an exasperated groan and climbed into the driver’s seat, waiting until she simmered down again before turning the ignition key. 

Nico turned the van around and began to drive back to the rest stop. A tense silence hung in the air between the driver and passenger seats, and it stung Nico’s heart a bit. They used to exchange jokes and witty banter all the time after a run, but they never fought like this. When did all of that change? Nico’s palette cried out for a cigarette, but she fought to ignore the craving. Smoking would only make Nero even more upset, and Nico doubted that he would help her light one anyway.

Finally, after about ten minutes, Nico glanced over at Nero. He appeared to have simmered down, as well, and now he was gazing out the window with a distracted look on his face, just like he always did anymore. 

“I’m sorry I got mad back there, Nero. I just wanted to help.” Nico sighed and returned her gaze to the road. “I’m not saying you ain’t strong on your own — hell, you’re stronger than I could ever dream of bein’. But no matter how strong you are...you can’t do everything by yourself. You know that.” 

Nero didn’t answer, never lifting his gaze from the trees and cars rushing past. But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think: _/I’m a descendant of Sparda. If I’m not strong enough on my own...then what good am I?/_

* * *

Meanwhile, clear on the other end of the country, V stumbled his way through the seemingly endless forest, with no sense of direction to guide him. So far, the first 24 hours of his life (that he could actually remember) have been miserable: he wakes up surrounded by a group of strangers on the beach, he wakes up _again_ in a hospital with doctors crowding around him, he somehow escapes the hospital like something fresh out of a Houdini act, and now he’s wandering around aimlessly in some god-forsaken wilderness. Hopefully his former life wasn’t this ridiculous, V found himself thinking, because this downright sucks.

He had been traveling for hours, now, and he still had no idea where he was, nor where he was going. His only directions were that Red Grave City was in “Southern Nascita”, which he only knew because Nurse Holly had mentioned it before. He didn’t even know which way was South, however, so not even that was helpful. But he couldn’t just go back to Impetus City and ask for directions, either; word had probably spread of “Patient X” escaping the hospital by now, and he probably had a search warrant bigger than the Qliphoth itself over his head. 

When V began to see the sunlight peeking through the treetops, he let out an exasperated groan. He had left the hospital around 1 AM; he’d been walking around for more than six hours now. V cursed at himself under his breath. He was stupid for thinking he could get to Red Grave City alone. Dr. Morales was right: without his memories — or a sense of direction — he would only end up getting himself killed. 

Sighing, V plopped down onto the grass in defeat, prostrating himself against the ground as if surrendering himself to the dead — given his luck so far, he probably will be before long. He’ll never find a way out. He’ll just keep wandering around until he starves to death, or worse. He may as well accept his fate. Besides, even without his impending demise looming over his head, he needed to rest, anyhow. So he released the tension in his limbs and stared glumly at the canopy above, allowing his shaggy white hair to fall into his green eyes.

Well, since he wasn’t running for his life anymore, V figured he may as well figure some things out. He already knew that the Qliphoth would pretty much remain a mystery, at this point, unless he miraculously found his way out of here. So, naturally, his mind wandered back to the hospital earlier that morning. He had no idea how, but he had somehow managed to teleport himself — it was the only explanation. 

But now this opened the door to countless more questions, and each one seemed more daunting than the last. What kind of power was this? Why did he have it? Has he always had this ability, or did losing his memory have something to do with it? Were there any other secret powers he had, and he just hadn’t discovered them yet? Why did it activate when it did, and how? 

And, most importantly, how will he learn to control it? 

V’s head spun as he thought about it. It was bad enough not knowing his name or where he came from; now he has this magical power he has no idea about? It terrified him, honestly. 

Then again, V realized, if he does have this power, he may as well figure out how it works. 

V sat up in the grass and looked down at his staff inquisitively. This cane, staff, or whatever it was...he must’ve had it for a reason. V recalled how the cane began to glow white right before he teleported; maybe the staff had something to do with all of this? It didn’t seem too special, V observed flatly, turning it over in his hands and taking in its simple yet elegant design. But, then again, he didn’t have anything supernatural happen to him at all until he stole it back.

Curious, V stood back up and held the staff aloft in his right hand. Now that he knows at least something about this power, maybe he can summon it again. Still, he was nervous; it’s not like he knew how to control this power, nor what to expect from it. Biting his lip, V nervously lifted the cane from the ground and pointed it straight ahead of him, holding his breath. 

Nothing.

Puzzled, V twirled the cane around a few times in his hands as he continued to contemplate. Well, at least it doesn’t fire off at random. That’s good news, he supposed. But still, it’s not exactly the result he was hoping for. Maybe he had to channel some sort of energy through it? Or move the staff a certain way? Or say something under his breath? Only one way to find out. 

For the next five minutes, V experimented with the staff any way he could think of: swinging it around, saying spell-like words, wiggling his fingers, you name it. He thanked his lucky stars that he was alone in this forest; he probably looked like an idiot. But the staff remained as dormant as ever, much to V’s annoyance.

“Come on, do something already!” V yelled at the staff, as if talking to an inanimate object would make any difference. 

He wasn’t surprised when nothing happened this time, but it still frustrated him regardless. 

Groaning, V gave up and slung the cane over his shoulder, opting to simply carry it instead of using it as — well — a cane. Whatever, he figured. He’ll figure out how to use this staff with time. But for now, he decided, it was more important to keep moving forward. His chances of making it out of this forest might be slim, but he’ll have no chance at all if he stays put.

As he continued to trek through the forest, however, something felt...off...about his surroundings. V couldn’t describe it, really. Call him crazy, but he just had this feeling in his gut that something wasn’t right. Was it another magic power? Was it instinct? Was he just being paranoid? He had no idea. But as he kept moving forward, something about the air around him definitely made his skin crawl. 

Finally, V just couldn’t ignore it anymore, and he forced himself to stop. Something was definitely wrong, but he didn’t know what. It was eating at him. 

V looked over at his cane on his shoulder and raised a curious eyebrow. Right before he teleported out of the hospital, when his fight or flight instincts were in full gear and he was desperate to find a way out, the edges of the cane began to glow white. It didn’t happen when he was running, nor when he tried to escape out the front door — only at the last second, when his feelings of fear and panic were at their maximum. 

Does this mean that the cane responds to his emotions? If that were the case, then he wondered what would happen now…

Experimentally, V held out the cane once more, waiting for something — anything — to happen. But, much to his disgust, nothing happened. Again. 

“Seriously?!” V yelled at the stupid cane again, rattling it angrily in his fist. “What’s the point of carrying you around if you won’t HELP ME?!” 

V was completely fed up, at this point, and when the cane still refused to respond, he practically screamed. Giving up, he threw the cane in a random direction out of sheer frustration, hurling it into the bushes. 

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see the cane react.

For a split second, as the cane was leaving his hand but before it slipped through his fingertips, he noticed that the very end of the cane’s tip had briefly turned red. But as soon as the cane escaped his grasp, the red tint disappeared, and it once again fell dormant. V stared at the cane in shock for a few seconds, and before he knew it, he was scrambling through the bushes and fishing out the mysterious staff. Whatever he did to make it glow like that, he needed to do it again. 

Nervously, V held the cane out in front of him one last time, this time pointing it in the same direction he had thrown it. He half-expected it to just do nothing again, honestly, so he was shocked when the cane’s tip began to glow red once again. As he continued to hold it, the light traveled up the cane until the whole thing was bathed in its faint glow. After about a second, the light quickly retreated towards the handle, dwindling away until it faded out of sight. Then the whole process repeated, the light traveling from the tip to the handle like the pulse on a radar.

V contemplated this for a moment. It almost looked like some sort of signal… 

Testing his theory, V used the cane’s tip to scan over the forest, first turning it 45° to the left, then 45° to the right, before gradually bringing it back to center. The signal grew faint the further away he pointed it from the signal, and grew sharper as he brought it closer. 

V’s green eyes lit up in excitement. It was a tracking signal! As for what it was tracking, V had no idea, but he honestly didn’t care. All that mattered to him was that, after hours of stumbling around with no sense of direction, he finally had a compass. 

V eagerly began to walk towards the signal, though he was careful to keep his guard up; after all, he still had that strong sense of foreboding inside of him. The dull red light began to glow brighter and flash more rapidly the further he traveled, growing more and more violent with each step until…

Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, something large and black darted across V’s vision, its movements so quick and sudden that it was little more than a blur. Startled, V’s eyes followed the strange shadow from bush to bush, tree to tree, until he became dizzy. The shadow continued to zip around the forest terrain, faster than V could keep track. Finally, when V had his back turned just long enough, it attacked. 

The strange creature hit V like a ton of bricks, knocking him down before he could even react. V was met with a faceful of dirt and moss as he fell face-first onto the ground. Thankfully, he still had a strong grip on his cane, which he used to shove the creature off of him.

V scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could and turned to face his attacker. The shadow, he realized, was actually the body of a massive black panther with blood red eyes. The panther let out a nasty, sharp-toothed snarl, causing V to flinch. He could see the panther gearing up to pounce once more, and V’s blood ran cold. He hoped and prayed that his staff would perform another miracle and get him out of this mess, but for now, he had to fight for his life. 

Instinctively, V held up his staff to shield his face, and not a moment too soon. The panther’s massive jaws were just inches from cutting through his neck, but the cane’s handle wedged itself into its mouth and kept it from clamping down. Grimacing, V shoved the staff further into its mouth and kicked it in the stomach, forcing the beast back. 

As the panther roared in anger, V pointed his staff at the monster, hoping to appear intimidating. On this inside, though, he was panicking. 

_/Now would be a great time for this thing to WORK!/_ V glared at his unresponsive cane with a look of absolute loathing. _/WHY WON’T YOU WORK WHEN I WANT YOU TO?!/_

As the panther geared up to pounce again, however, V threw his thoughts aside and dodged, missing its sharp claws by mere inches. 

V’s hands were shaking, at this point, but still he held his staff at the ready, right now his only line of defense between himself and a pair of jaws. “Whoa there...take it easy...good kitty...nice kitty…niiice kitty…”

The panther bared its teeth in response. Something told V that this wasn’t a nice kitty. 

Suddenly, a pair of massive tendrils sprung from the panther’s back, catching V off-guard. What the hell? Since when could panthers do that?! The tendrils swung themselves at V, their tips so sharp that they could cut through diamond like butter. V managed to dodge the brunt of the attack, but the very edge of a tendril managed to just barely scrape his left arm. Despite being a minor graze, however, it still managed to cut deep, leaving a rather bloody gash. 

Wincing, V recoiled and clutched his injured arm, blood seeping through his fingertips and dribbling onto the grass below. This gave the panther just enough time to wind up for one final, deadly pounce. 

Eyes widening, V scrambled to get away, but he tripped and fell backwards, slamming into a tree trunk before falling to his knees. He held his cane fearfully with his uninjured arm, preparing for the worst. 

The panther pounced at V, and he thrust his cane as hard as he could into the demon’s chest, a feeble last resort to protect himself. When the cane’s tip made contact with the panther’s black fur, however, something changed. The cane’s tip began to glow not white, not red, but a peculiar shade of purple. The light surrounded the pair and bathed them in its aura, completely obscuring their vision. 

Though V couldn’t see it, the panther was slowly dissolving into tiny black particles. They latched themselves onto V’s skin, collecting at his upper arms, torso, and neck. 

Finally, the light faded, and V warily opened his eyes. When his gaze wasn’t met with that of a very disgruntled panther, however, he immediately began to panic. What the hell did he just do?! Where’s the panther? V’s eyes darted across the forest, searching for that blur of black, but alas, he found nothing. Did he kill it? Why did it just disappear?

After a few moments, V finally calmed down enough to glance down at the wound on his left arm, and only then did he notice the strange black markings etched onto his skin. His eyes traced them from his shoulders and down to his waist, where they wrapped around and extended across his back. 

All at once, V’s eyes widened. This was more than just freaky magic stuff, now. These felt familiar to him somehow — really familiar — like he had tattoos just like these before.

Then it hit V like a ton of bricks. _/Familiar.../_

All at once, another memory flashed before his eyes. This time, he saw himself covered in these strange tattoos, spanning practically every inch of his upper body from the neck down. Even his hands were adorned with those strange shapes and patterns, appearing almost runelike in nature. And instead of the stark white hair V had become accustomed to, his hair in the vision was black as coal. 

This was so strange...why did he look so different? What could’ve happened to him that made his black hair turn white? How did he lose all of those tattoos?

The vision flashed before V’s eyes, and now he saw himself raising his cane to attack. Unlike the current V, however, whose hands shook when he held his staff and whose face looked anything but confident, the V in his vision knew exactly what he was doing. Suddenly, some of the tattoos on his body began to evaporate and clump together in front of him, materializing into a strange black cloud. The little black particles continued to gather until a face formed from the mist — a black panther, identical to the one V had just fought. 

The vision quickly faded, and V snapped back to reality, his eyes widening with fear as he slowly realized what he had done. Fearfully, almost reluctantly, V held his cane out in front of him, mimicking his movements in the vision. Just like in his memories, the tattoos on his body began to peel off and clump together in front of him, materializing into the same panther that tried to kill him just seconds before. 

V looked down at his now-dormant staff with shaking hands, as a new and terrifying question came to mind: what kind of monster was he? Because, with power like this, there was no way in hell he was human.


	5. Beyond Control

Immediately after the panther demon materialized before V, it snapped its neck around in confusion, a dangerous gleam in its blood red eyes. V yelped and took a step back, clasping his ivory staff with both hands held tight at his chest. Not only did he have no idea what kind of spell he had just cast, but now he stood face-to-face with a panther who wanted him dead — _again_. Could this day honestly get any worse? 

After a few moments, the panther finally put two and two together in its mind, and its red eyes narrowed into a deathly squint. Before V could even react, the demon pounced, pinning V to the ground with its massive paws.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!” The panther bellowed, his baritone voice strong and powerful. 

If V’s heart wasn’t racing before, he was practically on the verge of cardiac arrest by now. He already had all these weird powers to worry about; the last thing he needed was a murderous talking animal on top of it.

“I-i don’t know what I did!” V stammered out in reply, his heart hammering away in his chest. 

But the panther didn’t believe it in the slightest. He pressed his weight down further on V’s limbs, rendering him completely immobile. 

“You IDIOT!” The panther shouted at V, his ears flat against his head. “Do you have any idea how serious this is?!”

“What part of ‘I don’t know what I did’ did you not understand?!” V yelled back in an exasperated tone.

The panther growled and leaned in closer to V with his jaws, silencing him. “Like hell you didn’t. Making a familiar bond is no easy task, even for the most experienced of your kind. You knew damn well what you were doing.”

“N-no, I didn’t!” V struggled to break free, but he couldn’t. “Please, just let me explain—“

“There’s nothing to explain!” The panther sneered. “A familiar bond is only meant to be made with both the demon and its master’s consent. But without my consent, it’s obvious what your true motives are…”

“Please, just listen to me…!!”

“You didn’t want me as a familiar…you wanted me as your slave!” 

The panther elongated his deadly claws, hovering them just inches above V’s face. 

“N-no! That’s not it at all!” V looked pleadingly into the panther’s piercing red eyes. “I didn’t mean to capture you...please...I-i’m sorry!” 

“Then release me!” The panther roared, baring his fangs. “NOW!” 

“I can’t!” V squinted his eyes closed as he said it, as if bracing himself for the deadly attack he just knew would come. “I don’t know how to reverse this. I’m sorry, I—“

But the panther only grew furious at V’s words, until he couldn’t hold back his rage any longer. “THEN WHAT GOOD ARE YOU TO ME?” 

Hissing with anger, the demon dug his claws deep into V’s face, slashing from the top of his left eyelid all the way down to the bottom of his right cheek. V cried out sharply in pain, but the panther just barely retracted, only allowing his victim enough freedom to touch his wounds. V’s left hand soared up to his injured eye and desperately pressed against it; his vision in that eye was slowly going dark, and he feared that the injury had blinded it. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, staining his teeth red. 

For just a brief moment, the panther demon reveled in his captor’s suffering. But that moment soon ended, and he quickly realized that this attack would come at a price.

All of a sudden, an identical claw mark manifested on the panther’s face, as well. The demon roared and stumbled backwards suddenly, releasing his death grip on V in the process. V seized the opportunity and scuttled backwards until he was finally at a safe distance. With his uninjured eye, he watched fearfully as the panther seethed in pain, thrashing about violently and rubbing its face against the ground as it tried and failed to stop the bleeding. 

V knew he should’ve used this opportunity to run, while he still had one good eye and all four of his limbs intact. But when he heard the demon’s painful cries, he froze. Slowly, he gingerly removed his hand from his mauled face and looked at the panther — really looked at him. Although his vision was marred with black thanks to his left eye, V could still see that the demon’s face was bleeding profusely, and his heart ached with compassion. 

“You’re hurt,” V gasped, and in that moment, he knew he needed to help. 

Slowly, V crawled towards the panther, not even flinching as the demon continued to lash out. When the panther’s eyes met with V, however, he immediately froze, every single muscle in his feline body tensing up at the sight of his captor. But V continued to inch closer, slowly approaching the demon until they were less than a foot apart.

V tenderly reached out his hand, but the panther growled and pulled back instinctively.

“It’s okay, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” V’s voice was calm, gentle, reassuring — something the demon had never heard from a human before. “I just want to inspect the wound.” 

Every instinct in the panther demon’s body screamed at him not to listen — that humans were the enemy, that heeding this man’s advice would only get himself killed. But somehow, somewhere deep within the tresses of his mind, he could sense that this human was different. So, against his better judgement, the panther lowered his head and allowed V to examine his wounds. They were claw marks, completely identical to the ones on V’s face, stretching from the demon’s left eye all the way down to his jawline. Even his left eye suffered the same injury, the red iris now a marred, milky white.

“I don’t understand,” V shook his head in amazement, if not a bit of horror. “How…?”

“A familiar is forbidden from attacking its master,” The panther explained gravely. “If it does…it is forced to endure the very pain it inflicts.”

“I’m so sorry,” V bit his lip and dropped his gaze towards the ground. “This is all my fault. I—“

Suddenly, the black in V’s vision began to fade away, much to his astonishment. He could feel his left eye, which he had presumed to be dead, miraculously come back to life, slowly repairing itself until it was good as new. In the end, his vision was completely restored.

“Fortunately...the master can also heal their familiar by standing close to them,” The panther added, looking away stubbornly with his newly-healed eyes. “The closer they are, the faster they will heal.”

Already, V could see the bloody gashes on the panther’s face slowly stitch themselves closed, the blood caked on the demon’s face gradually fading away. Stunned, V brought a hand to his own marred face, only to quickly realize that it, too, was beginning to heal. 

Their injuries were rapidly fading, now, the scar tissue shriveling away until nothing remained. In the end, it looked like the panther had never attacked V, at all. 

Still, the demon avoided his master’s eyes. “As much as I utterly despise you...I can’t kill you without killing myself.”

He gave his tail an agitated flick. “Consider yourself lucky.”

V bit his lip and looked away. All he had tried to do was protect himself...and now he had a familiar who would rather be anything but. Even though it wasn’t intentional by any means, the panther was right: V had technically enslaved him. 

“Look, I’m sorry that I did this to you,” V looked down at his cane and sighed. “And I wish I could take it back...but I don’t know how, okay? Believe me, I’m just as frustrated about all of this as you are. I didn’t even know I was capable of doing something like this…” 

The panther seemed skeptical at first, but upon seeing the look of remorse on his master’s face, he faltered. “You...you really did have no idea what you were doing, did you?” 

“No...I didn’t.” V bit his lip. “And I still don’t.”

V proceeded to pace back and forth in the tall grass, as everything that was bothering him for the last 24 hours finally bubbled up to the surface. 

“I have no idea who I am, or where I came from, or how I’m able to do any of this!” V was ranting, at this point, but he honestly didn’t care. After all that’s happened, he deserved to get this off of his chest. “All I remember is that I was in Red Grave City a month ago, and if I want to get my memory back, I need to go back before the Qliphoth is contained. But I barely know where I am, and I have no idea how to get there.”

V was practically pulling his hair out by the roots, he was so frustrated. “And every time I think I’ve figured something out about myself, I end up with way more questions than answers. No matter what I do, or which way I turn, I just keep getting more confused!” 

V groaned and slumped down underneath the tree again in defeat, leaning his head back against the trunk and running his fingers through his hair. “I just feel so lost...like I’m running around in circles, going nowhere. And now all these weird things have started happening to me, and I have no control over any of it. I’m just so confused...and lost, and alone...and I’m terrified.”

V’s eyes wandered over at the cane in his right arm, still held in a death grip. It was like a security blanket to him, at this point — his only possession, the only material remnant from his clouded past, that he clung to for safety and guidance. Too bad this security blanket really sucked at its job. 

Finally, V forced himself to set the cane aside, releasing the tension from his weary hand. He seemed to collapse inward on himself, his knees hugged tightly against his chest and his chin resting on his elbows. It looked rather ridiculous, honestly, to see a 6’5” man clad in intimidating goth clothing curled up into a scared little ball. But while he appeared to be a fully-grown man in his early 20’s on the outside, on the inside, he really was just a frightened little kid. 

The panther recoiled a bit when he saw this. This human, strange as he was...he reminded him of another kid he had come across during his travels, all those years ago. Although their circumstances were obviously quite different, they both had that peculiar white hair, and the way V held his cane tight against his chest was eerily similar to how that child had clung to his katana...

“I’m sorry,” V whispered, awakening the panther from his thoughts. “But I just don’t know what to do...”

The panther continued to stare at the strange man for a few moments, the normally ferocious demon standing eerily and unnaturally calm. V glanced back up at the panther with worried eyes, half-expecting him to pounce and maul him again. 

But instead, the feline simply shook his head and sighed, taking V by surprise. 

“If anyone here should be sorry, kid, it’s me.” The panther wrapped his tail around his paws and looked away. “It was my fault for attacking you, after all. You were just trying to defend yourself.”

After what felt like an eternity, V finally began to relax. He dropped his arms to his sides and sat himself up properly, releasing his legs from his chest. 

“So...no hard feelings?” V smiled shyly.

V extended his hand out to his new familiar, hoping to form a truce. “I know this arrangement is less than ideal...but if we’re stuck like this, we may as well work together. Right?”

He really was innocent, the panther mused, sizing V up against the child he had met so long ago. While that child had already been through so much at such a young age, his blue eyes already hardened by tragedy and trauma, this kid was different. Even when he was scared to death, his green eyes still had that undeniable glimmer of hope...

Still, the panther merely narrowed his eyes in response, glaring at V’s open palm in disgust. 

_/He’s still the one who enslaved you,/_ He reminded himself coldly. _/Innocent or not./_

The panther turned his back towards V with his nose held high in the air, flicking his open palm defiantly with his tail. The demon still looked pretty grim about the situation by-and-large, but at least he wasn’t actively trying to kill him anymore. At least they were making progress, V figured. 

Rising to his feet, V lightly brushed the dirt off of his black garments before slinging his staff over his right shoulder. The panther seemed rather confused by this, but he decided not to question it further.

“So, kid. You said you were heading to Red Grave City, right?” The panther inquired. “I’ve been there a couple times. I can probably show you how to get there.” 

V’s eyes lit up at the offer. “Really? That would be great! Thank you so mu—“ 

“On one condition.” The panther’s voice lowered threateningly, wiping the smile from V’s face. “As soon as we get to Red Grave, you WILL release me.”

V fidgeted with his cane nervously. “But...what if I still don’t know how t—?”

“Oh, you will.” The panther narrowed his eyes. “Once you get your memory back, you’ll remember how to control your powers, and you’ll remember how to reverse this. Until then, I’m willing to cooperate...but only if you can promise my freedom in return.”

The panther extended his tail out towards V, a similar gesture to what V had given him before. “Do we have a deal?” 

V took one look at his tail before grasping it in his palm, shaking it firmly. He couldn't afford to hesitate — not when there was so much at stake.

“Deal.” V promised. 

The panther quickly snatched his tail out of V’s grasp, as if it were infected with some deadly disease. He wasn’t really one for...personal contact. Still, he did give his master a stern nod of approval, confirming his allegiance. 

The demon then turned and began trekking southward, not even bothering to turn around and check if V was following him.

“First off: South is this way, moron.” The panther sneered. “You were heading East. I don’t know what kind of compass you were reading, Davy Crockett, but all you’d find in that direction is a bunch of farmland.”

The panther disappeared into the brush. “Now hurry up, before I have to drag your sorry ass out of a barn.”

V hastily followed the panther, struggling to keep up with his fast pace.

“Okay, first of all, Davy Crockett was a hunter, not an explorer,” V said matter-of-factly. “And second of all, I was actually following this red light on my staff.”

“First of all, I don’t care,” The panther replied snidely. “And second of all, I really don’t care.” 

The demon began walking even faster, leaving V practically tripping over his own feet to keep up. He didn't even slow down when V got himself tangled up in a low-hanging branch, leaving him to struggle on his own. 

V clicked his tongue in his mouth. Two could play at this game. 

“Well, you should care.” V managed to get himself untangled and sprinted to catch back up. “That light was a tracking signal, and given how it was reacting, there was obviously something close by. And it sure as hell wasn’t farmland.”

When the panther still refused to acknowledge him, however, V quickly lost his patience. V hooked onto the panther’s neck with his cane, choking him and forcing him to stop. V spun his familiar around to face him, and he met the demon’s glare with a steely gaze of his own. 

“You’re hiding something.” V narrowed his eyes. “Spill it.”

The panther demon rolled his eyes in annoyance, but internally, he was slightly impressed. This kid was actually pretty smart...for an amnesiac. 

Finally, he begrudgingly gave in to his master’s demands. 

“Fine,” The panther huffed, turning back around. “We’ll head East for a bit. Lead the way, Jethro.”

Now it was V’s turn to roll his eyes, but he silently pulled out his staff and followed the pulsing red signal without another word.

As they continued eastward, V’s cane began to flash more and more rapidly, blinking faster and faster with each step. Finally, when they reached their destination, the blinking stopped abruptly, and the cane was now bathed in a calm, solid red light. Curious, V looked up to find that his cane had guided them right to a mysterious floating hole…

“Huh?” V cautiously approached the hole, which was barely taller than he was and about 3 feet wide. “What is this? It looks like some sort of portal…”

“That would be a Hell Breach,” The panther gruffed. Perhaps he spoke too soon about his master’s intelligence. “Surely even you’ve heard about them. They’re small rips in the barrier between the human and demon worlds — like a Hell Gate, but smaller.” 

The panther shrugged nonchalantly, as if he were talking about the weather rather than an evil, demonic portal. “They’ve been springing up all over Nascita since the Qliphoth took root.”

“How long has this been happening?” V asked, gingerly touching the surface of the portal. Its form seemed to ripple a bit, causing him to jump in surprise.

“Yeah, don’t touch the demon portal, dumbass.” The panther rolled his eyes. “And, since the Qliphoth sprung up about a month ago, take a wild guess.”

When V gave his familiar a rather nasty glare, the panther rolled his eyes. “What? Ask stupid questions, get stupid answers.” 

“Fine then, smartass.” V placed a hand on his hip. “How long has _this_ Hell Breach been here?”

As annoyed as the panther was, he couldn’t help but smirk a little at V’s response. Looks like this kid had a bit more fire to him that he originally thought...he liked that.

“I gotta admit, I never expected to hear you curse,” The panther remarked with a chuckle before replying. “This one in particular sprung up about an hour ago. I crossed over from the demon world using this Hell Breach — not that I’d tell you why.”

V finally stepped away from the Hell Breach, though a puzzled look still remained on his face. 

“I’ve heard of this before...” V muttered suddenly, prompting a strange look from his familiar. “Demons, Hell Gates, the underworld...I know all of this somehow.”

V ran his fingers through his hair — a nervous tic, the panther observed — as his mind continued to race. “But... _why_ do I know this?”

“Beats me, kid,” The panther shrugged before turning back around. “Odds are, you were probably a devil hunter. You look enough like one, anyhow; that’s why I attacked you in the first place.” 

V bit back the urge to snort. Given how much of a nervous wreck he has been over the past 24 hours, not to mention how his first demon encounter was anything but stylish, the idea was almost laughable. 

“Me? A devil hunter?” V chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

An awkward silence hung between V and his familiar as they continued their journey southward, broken only by the sound of grass crunching at their feet. V knew there was still a lot of tension between him and the panther demon, and his familiar probably had no desire to talk to him, either — unless it was to insult him. But, after a while, the silence became unnerving, and V racked his brain for something to talk about.

“You know...I used to have another panther as a familiar,” V began awkwardly, hoping to break the ice. “I remembered her when I first saw my tattoos. You know, when I—“

V then remembered, perhaps a bit too late, that the panther still wasn’t too thrilled about their forced arrangement, prompting a glare from his familiar. 

“Sorry…” V cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. “I don’t remember much about her, though, besides that she was female. I can’t even recall her name...but yeah, she looked just like you.”

V smirked a little. “Though I’m pretty sure she didn’t talk like you can. Last time I checked, I don’t remember her calling me a dumbass.”

“Believe me, she was probably saying it internally.” The panther jeered. “But yeah, most demons can’t. I’ve just done a lot of traveling over the years, and naturally I’ve picked up on human dialect.”

“Traveling?” V raised a curious brow. “You mean, like between the two worlds? Where have you—?”

The demon let out a sudden growl, his ears flat against the back of his head. His deathly squint said it all: his past was not up for discussion. V quickly complied and dropped the subject.

“Anyhow,” V said quickly, eager to change the subject. “Since we’re working together now, I may as well learn my familiar’s name.” 

V gave the panther an expectant look, to which the panther shrugged. 

“The name’s Umbra,” The panther replied roughly. “Don’t wear it out.” 

“Umbra, huh?” V commented, prompting an eye roll from Umbra. “Interesting...I like it.” 

V gave his familiar a friendly smile, though Umbra refused to look him in the eyes. V sighed. He’ll warm up with time, he supposed. 

“I don’t think I ever introduced myself formally, either,” V continued, running his fingers through his hair shyly. “You can call me V.”

“V, huh?” Umbra mimicked his master in a mocking tone. What a stupid nickname.

“Where’d you get that one from?” Umbra continued with that sarcastic tone of his. “Let me guess, it’s short for something. Victor, Vincent, Vergil…”

“I messed up writing the letter X,” V answered bluntly, cutting Umbra short. 

Umbra paused for a second; he wasn’t expecting that answer in the slightest. “You...you what?”

“The doctors made me sign some forms with the letter X,” V shrugged his shoulders, not thinking much of it. “But I messed it up, and it looked like a V.”

V scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, his pale face tinted scarlet. “In my defense, I was having a panic attack.”

Umbra chuckled softly, in spite of himself. As annoying as the skinny little twat was, his master definitely knew how to surprise him.

“V, you are the weirdest human I have ever met.” Umbra remarked. “This should be interesting.”

* * *

After their last demon encounter ended on a sour note, Nico returned to the rest stop for a few hours to allow Nero to recoup. Nero didn’t protest in the slightest, since he really was exhausted from that last scuffle and he needed to catch up on sleep, anyway. So, as soon as Nico plugged the van into the generator, Nero retreated to their sleeping quarters and collapsed onto the futon bed, and within seconds he was fast asleep. 

A few hours later, Nero finally emerged from the back of the van and plopped down in the passenger seat next to Nico, yawning a bit. 

“Had a nice nap?” Nico chuckled. “I could hear you snorin’ from outside.”

“Believe me, I needed it,” Nero wiped the rheum from his eyes. “I haven’t slept that good in weeks.” 

“I’m glad,” Nico replied, although the tone in her voice said otherwise. 

_/Too bad you practically had to kill yourself to get it.../_

Nico stubbornly shook the thought from her mind, however. He was probably just exaggerating. Surely he didn’t need to wear himself out THIS much just to get some shut eye anymore...right? 

“So, how you feelin’?” Nico quickly changed the subject. “You ready to get back out there?” 

“Yeah, totally.” Nero was back to peering out the window like he always did nowadays, his voice distracted and his mind a world away. “Let’s go.” 

Nico shrugged and began to drive out of the rest stop and back onto the highway. Something told her that she shouldn’t believe him, but she knew better than to argue. Nero was actually in a somewhat decent mood for once; she didn’t want to ruin it. 

As they drove along the highway into greater Tumult City, however, something still bugged Nico in the back of her mind. Why was Nero so hell-bent on not using her Breakers last time? Part of her wanted to ask Nero upfront, but she had a feeling that it would make Nero’s already volatile mood turn south in a heartbeat. But, at the same time, she couldn’t just let something like that drop, either. He’d never rejected her help like that before; even when he (somehow) grew his arm back, he still appreciated her craftsmanship and used the Devil Breakers whenever he could. What made today so different? 

Finally, Nico couldn’t stand to stay silent any longer. She had to say something about it.

“You know…” She started it off casually, although a hint of passive-aggressiveness could definitely be detected in her voice. “I still have plenty of Gerberas and Punchlines in stock for you to use.” 

Nico knew that, out of all of her Devil Breakers, those two were Nero’s favorites. If anything, she was hoping to — at the very least — guilt-trip him into using them again. 

But Nero saw through Nico’s gimmick in a heartbeat, and he clicked his jaw angrily. He was still sour over what Nico had said to him the night before, and her constant nagging definitely wasn’t helping matters. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Nero said calmly, though his voice also had a passive-aggressive edge to it, rivaling Nico’s. “I fought off the last horde just fine on my own.” 

That was probably the worst thing Nero could’ve said. 

Nico’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, her usually steady arms shaking dangerously with anger. She’s tried being nice to Nero over the past month, but clearly it was falling on deaf ears. Her patience was quickly growing thin. 

“What? Now that you got this fancy new Devil Trigger, my Breakers ain’t good enough for you anymore?” Nico fought to keep her voice even, but anger was slowly seeping in and lacing into her words. “You used to love using ‘em. Hell, you used Punchline just yesterday! What happened, Nero? Did one’a my Helter Skelters get shoved up your ass?” 

“NO.” Nero groaned in reply. Even when she was pissed off, she was still as crude as ever...

“Then what the hell is it, Nero?” Nico demanded. “What are you tryin’a prove by refusin’ any help? Huh?” 

Nero refused to answer. Honestly, he couldn’t answer, even if he wanted to. How would he ever be able to explain these jumbled up emotions to Nico? He barely understood them, himself…

Suddenly, a massive demon roar sounded from nearby, interrupting his train of thought. In his right mind, it sounded like a demon boss. In his current mind, however, it sounded like the perfect opportunity to escape this conversation. Nero jumped out of the van before Nico even had the chance to fully stop, practically falling flat on his face in the process. He quickly shook it off, however, and sprinted towards the sound, leaving an exasperated Nico to drive after him. 

Eventually, they both came face-to-face with a demon boss, one of which neither of them had ever seen before. It was huge, first off, dwarfing all 30 of the previous Hell Breach demons combined. It appeared to be serpentine in nature, with one large, snakelike body split into three basilisk heads. Nico didn’t know how strong this thing was, but judging by its sheer size alone, Nero was in for one hell of a fight. 

Nero whipped out Red Queen and Blue Rose and began to attack, but after only a few strikes, he quickly realized that this demon was way more powerful than he had anticipated. The charged bullets and Exceed attacks seemed to have no effect on the beast, who appeared to simply shrug off Nero’s attacks.

Nero cursed under his breath. Why wasn’t he strong enough anymore? 

“Nero!” Nico shouted from the distance, waving a Gerbera in the air. “I think I know what this thing is! Grab a Devil Breaker and—“

“NO!” Nero screamed furiously in reply. “I DON’T NEED YOU!” 

Nico flinched at Nero’s words, as if she had just been stabbed in the heart. She was used to Nero’s attitude, but she had never heard him snap at her like that. Already, she could see that murderous gleam in his eye, as anger and fury began to take over. It terrified Nico, honestly, to see Nero like this…

Nero, of course, was too absorbed in the battle to pay it any mind. Coating Red Queen with demonic energy, he unleashed a deadly Roulette Spin on one of the demon’s heads, hacking it right off. The demon roared in agony as the basilisk head fell lifelessly to the ground, rotting away and dissolving into red orbs. 

“Hell yeah!” Nero grinned triumphantly. “One down, two to go!” 

“Ner- _ooo_!” Nico groaned. “Listen to me! This demon isn’t a norm—“

Before Nico could even finish her sentence, however, the demon let out an earth-shattering roar. Nero paused and looked back up at the demon’s headless neck, and immediately his smile was wiped from his face. From its neck spawned not one, but two new heads, regenerating in a matter of seconds. 

The demon reared all four of its heads at Nero and let out a blood-curdling howl, rattling the already battered buildings around them. The original two snapped at Nero, while the newly-generated pair of heads spewed out a terrible poison that hung across the battlefield like a fog. 

“It’s a Hydra, you dumbass!” Nico scrambled to jump back into the van; one whiff of that stuff would be deadly to a human. “That’s what I was tryin’ to tell you!” 

Nico left behind a Gerbera and a Punchline before retreating to the van, however, in case Nero finally got enough sense to use them. 

Nero coughed and sputtered as the poison filled his lungs. It wasn’t deadly to him, thankfully, but he could already tell that it was sapping away his vitality. He needed to make this quick, but Red Queen and Blue Rose obviously weren’t enough to stop this thing. What should he do? 

In his right mind, he knew he should’ve grabbed a Devil Breaker.

But, in his stubborn-as-ever current mind, he decided to gamble with DT again. 

He could already feel his inner storm raging, jump-started by the comments Nico had made earlier. But it wasn’t enough, Nero realized gravely, as he narrowly dodged another attack. He’ll need to stoke the fire, just like he did last time. So, he turned his raging thoughts inward, repeating all of the same mantras he had previously: the comments Nico had made about him being weak, Dante calling him dead weight, all those times people had underestimated him…

Meanwhile, the Hydra continued to thrash about. Nero was so absorbed in fueling his inner fire, he didn’t even notice that one of the heads had geared up to attack. The Hydra slammed its head into Nero, sending him spiraling into the van’s front grid. The van’s burglar alarms started going off, and the airbags deployed from the impact, causing Nico to rattle off every curse word in the book from inside. 

“DAMMIT, NERO!” Nero could hear Nico’s words clear from outside. “YOU BETTER NOT HAVE FUCKED UP MY FRONT END, YOU BASTARD!”

That last word — bastard — struck Nero harder than any insult she had thrown his way before. He was used to her calling him an asshole and a dumbass, but _bastard_? Did she seriously just go there? All the while, Nero’s hellstorm flared up inside of him. Memories of the orphanage, memories he had suppressed for years, began seeping back up to the surface. Years of being condemned as the bastard child of a prostitute by his peers — to the point where he honestly started to believe it — began to resurface, and that was more than enough to push his inner fire over the edge. 

Nero didn’t even have to unleash his demonic energy, this time; it exploded from his soul and surged through every blood vessel in his body all on its own. Within seconds, he transitioned into his Devil Trigger, but this time, it was different; his eyes were yellow again, indicating at least some form of control. Every now and then, however, they would briefly turn red, overpowering his senses. He was in control, but just barely. 

Still, Nero wasted no time springing into action. He resumed his battle with the Hydra, hacking off all four heads with his Bringer Claws. His vitality was greatly depleted, but Nero was feeling confident; there’s no way it could spawn all four of those heads back, right? 

But, much to his horror, Nero was wrong — dead wrong. 

The four heads soon multiplied into eight, and the poison soon coated the battlefield in a soupy fog. Nero could barely breathe, at this point, as his vitality was sucked out of him like a vacuum. Less than a minute after going into Devil Trigger, he had completely run out of steam. 

Nico screamed as she saw Nero go down, reverting to his human form in the process. He was still conscious, thank goodness, but he was too drained to move. Nico needed to do something, and fast, or else Nero would be toast. But what? That poison would kill her! 

Nico’s eyes darted across the van, and she caught sight of her welding mask. It wasn’t much, but it should be enough for a few quick gasps of air, as long as she could hold her breath the rest of the time. Nico snatched the mask off of her workbench and, throwing it on and holding her breath, she sprinted out onto the battlefield. 

The Hydra’s eight heads were all locked onto Nero, now, and he tried to back away, but he couldn’t. No...this can’t be how it ends...not like this…

A basilisk head opened its massive jaws and leaned in towards Nero, moving to split his body in two — but, unlike the Hydra, that wasn’t a good thing in the slightest. Nero knew he couldn’t fight back, so he squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the impact. He almost wished he had a deity to pray to, he was that close to meeting his maker. 

_/So this is how I’m gonna die.../_ Nero caught himself thinking. _/From my own goddamn stupidity./_

But, as if a guardian angel had answered a prayer he never spoke, that fatal attack never came. Right in the nick of time, Nico jumped in front of Nero and threw a Punchline at the Hydra. The Devil Breaker exploded, causing the Hydra to recoil in pain. 

“N-nico…!” Nero could barely speak, he was so drained of energy. “What are you…?!” 

Nico couldn’t afford to answer. Instead, with a rush of adrenaline as her saving grace, she lifted Nero into her arms and sprinted back to the van. She practically threw Nero into the back before slamming the door shut, and she just barely had enough oxygen left over to climb into the driver’s seat. 

Nero was still trying to catch his breath. “N-nico...you...you could’ve…!”

“Save it,” Nico replied desperately, slamming her foot down on the accelerator. “We’ve gotta get outta here!” 

As quickly as she possibly could, Nico whipped the van around and drove away, the Hydra screeching behind them. Nero grabbed onto the workstation table and slowly pulled himself upright, but a rather abrupt turn from Nico sent him flying into the adjacent couch. 

“Stay down!” Nico shouted over her shoulder. “We ain’t got time to drive safely.” 

“You never drive safely!” Nero fired back in reply, slowly making his way back to the passenger seat. 

Finally, Nero managed to sit himself down and strap himself in, just as Nico made another rough turn. The Hydra, Nero realized, was chasing after them, slithering across the ground with all eight heads snapping furiously. 

They had made their way onto the highway now, with the Hydra right on their heels. Several cars swerved and spun out of control in a vain attempt to avoid the colossal demon, and others were crushed under its massive body before they could even react. But Nico’s top priority was getting Nero to safety. She weaved her way through dozens of cars and pushed the van into triple-digit speeds, but still the demon managed to keep up with them, slithering at a breakneck pace.

“Nico,” Nero’s eyes widened. “It’s gaining on us!”

“I know that!” Nico grimaced as the highway narrowed down to two lanes, transitioning from the valley’s newer bypass to the old winding roads over the mountains. “I’ll have to shake it off somehow.” 

Nico barely made the next turn without flipping the van over, sending all of her tools in the back flying. The Hydra skirted around the narrow turn, but not without blowing out the guardrail. Nero gulped as the metal barrier dropped down the cliffside and disappeared into the ravine. That could be them if they weren’t careful. 

Turn after hair-raising turn Nico made, but the Hydra continued to draw closer. They were near the mountain’s apex, now, the ravine now an almost 500-foot drop below them. If the demon was still managing to catch up to them while they were going uphill...that definitely wasn’t a good sign. 

Suddenly, Nico made another turn, and up ahead, they saw a totaled semi-truck blocking the highway. Nero’s eyes shot open like cannonfire, but Nico narrowed her eyes at the truck, zeroing in on her target. The truck was sitting at an angle that could easily make a ramp, and with the highway on the other mountain so close to them on the other side…

“Nico,” Nero’s heart picked up pace as Nico floored it towards the truck. “Nico, what are you doing?”

But Nico didn’t answer, her focus entirely on the maneuver in mind. She had to plan this perfectly, or else they’d splatter on the ground like an Empusa on her windshield. 

“Nico…!”

The van drove up the makeshift ramp and went airborne. 

“NICO!!!” 

After the most terrifying three seconds of his life, the van finally landed all four wheels on the ground again, and only then did Nero allow himself to exhale. Nico screeched the van to a grinding halt, much to Nero’s horror. 

“Nico!” Nero cried. “The Hydra!!”

But Nico knew what she was doing. 

The Hydra slithered on top of the truck and attempted to make the same maneuver, but the demon’s weight was far greater than that of the Devil May Cry van. The semi-truck crumbled under the Hydra’s weight, throwing off its trajectory. When it leapt into the air, it missed the landing by a longshot, and the demon cried out a blood-curdling cry as it fell down into the ravine below. 

Nero wished that this was the end — that the Hydra had fallen to its death, and the mission was complete. But Nero knew better than that. If it could survive his Bringer Claws without so much as a single scratch, he knew full well that a 500-foot drop wouldn’t kill the 5-story tall demon. 

Nico seemed to know this, too, because the moment she knew they were safe, she proceeded to give Nero an earful. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Nico screamed, this time holding absolutely nothing back. “Don’t you know anything about how Hydras work?! You were literally THIS CLOSE to getting yourself killed!” 

Had Nico been screaming this five minutes ago, Nero might’ve gone into Devil Trigger a second time. But now, Nero’s anger had dissipated, leaving behind only that crushing feeling of guilt and depression he refused to let anyone see. So, Nico’s words, rather than anger him, stung him where it hurt most. 

“You’re such a dumbass!” Nico cried out in frustration. “Nearly getting yourself killed like that, nearly getting ME killed like that — and for what? To prove a point?!” 

Nico was practically ripping her hair out from the roots. “Ugh, you’re so fucking selfish! Selfish, and stupid, and reckless, and...and...UGH! I can’t even think of a word to describe how fucking stupid this was!”

“Nico…” Nero stubbornly wiped his face with his hands. “Please…” 

“Oh no, I ain’t finished yet.” Nico glared harshly at Nero. “I’ve been bitin’ my tongue about your bullshit for way too long. Sneakin’ out at night, refusin’ any help, usin’ your anger for power...you’re out of control, Nero!”

Nero turned away and looked out the window once more, but this time, it was to keep Nico from seeing his eyes turn puffy and red. 

Nico let out an almost feral cry of her own, she was so frustrated. She was so angry, so furious, she didn’t even think about what she was saying until it had already passed her lips.

“You’re acting just like Vergil!” 

But as soon as the words registered in her brain, Nico’s hands flew up to her mouth. Why did she say that to him? Quickly, Nico tried to stammer out an apology, but it was already too late. 

Nero heard her. 

He heard her loud and clear. 

_And she was right._

Biting his lip so hard that it bled, Nero stormed off to the sleeping quarters in the back of the van, slamming the sliding door shut behind him. Nico scurried after him, but he latched the door from the other side before she could get there, locking her out. 

“Nero!” Nico pounded on the door. “Nero, I’m sorry! Please, open up!” 

“Leave me alone.”

Nico’s voice caught in her throat when she heard Nero’s reply. He didn’t sound angry, tired, or even upset. Rather, he sounded quiet, pleading, desperate...terrified. 

“Please...I just want to be alone.”

Finally, Nico sighed and retreated, though her mind was still plagued with worry. She walked over to the jukebox and turned on one of Nero’s favorite songs before retiring at the kitchen table. Hopefully the music would at least help calm him down. Nico’s mind wandered back to the nightmare for but a moment, but she furiously shook the thought from her head. 

_/Nero’s fine, Nico.../_ She told herself over and over again, trying and failing to believe it. _/He’s fine.../_

Meanwhile, in the sleeping quarters, Nero lay sprawled out on the futon bed, furiously wiping his eyes. No, he couldn’t cry...not when Nico was sitting so close by. He never cried in front of Nico. Not even when he found out that Vergil was his father, and Nico gave him that “puppies cry woof, kittens cry meow” talk, did he cry in front of her. 

The van’s name may have been Devil May Cry...but crying simply wasn’t an option. It never was.

Almost against his will, Nero’s mind wandered back to Vergil, to the last thing he said to him before trapping himself in hell forever. He didn’t say anything meaningful before leaving — no “goodbye”, or “I love you”, or “I’m sorry for being an absolute jackass.” All he said to him was to take care of his stupid poetry book. He was so selfish, and stupid, and reckless…

...Was he really acting just like him?

Sighing, Nero glanced over at his nightstand. He used to keep V’s — Vergil’s? No, definitely V’s — poetry book there. He kept it there for almost a month, keeping his promise to his deadbeat father. 

But now the nightstand was empty — just another promise that was made to be broken.


	6. A Key to the Past

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, V and Umbra finally emerged from the Northern Woods (as V had recently learned they were called), and V’s jaw dropped at the sight. In front of them sat a massive city surrounded by dozens of rivers, giving it the appearance of an island floating on water. Roadways seemed to stretch from all directions and connect to the city, forming magnificent bridges over the rivers. The evening sun glistened against the numerous skyscrapers, and the two mountains to the city’s left and right framed the gorgeous scene. It looked like something from a postcard, it was so surreal. 

“This is Sapere City,” Umbra explained in an almost bored tone, not even bothering to take in the view. Seen one city, seen them all. “Nascita’s capital.” 

“It’s beautiful,” V said in awe. 

V quickly followed Umbra to the nearest bridge and entered the urban city. Soon enough, they were surrounded by countless lights, skyscrapers, and people of all kinds. Umbra patiently guided V along the busy streets as he gawked at the sights, pulling him back whenever he stepped a bit too far into the road and nudging him to turn left or right as needed. At one point, the panther almost had to tackle V to the ground to keep him from stepping out in front of a taxi. Umbra sure hoped his master had a little more common sense before he lost his memory, because this was ridiculous. 

Eventually, V’s initial excitement began to fade as he became acquainted with his surroundings. V then turned his attention toward the countless pedestrians, street vendors, and loiterers on the city streets, observing them with interest. Most of them were locals, as V could tell by their aloof disinterest in the city sights. Several others were vendors of some sort, either pestering passerby into buying their overpriced products or offering free samples (V wanted to take some, but Umbra pulled him away before he could). And then there were the less savory people, the shady con artists and hecklers who stuck to the corners and alleyways, which Umbra had no trouble scaring off with his threatening snarl.

The further they went along, however, the more people began to take notice of the unusual pair. Quite a few people gave V and his familiar wary looks as they walked past, as if the panther demon were to pounce at any second. Some were even afraid of them, shoving their kids behind them protectively, closing up their shops, and giving them distrusting glares as they passed.

V was puzzled by this. “Hey, Umbra? Why is everyone looking at us like that?” 

Umbra flicked his tail nervously. “Everyone’s been on edge since the Hell Breaches started. Humans don’t trust demons on a good day, either, so that’s saying a lot.”

Umbra quickened his pace, keeping his head low to avoid the harsh glares from the crowd. “Let’s just hurry up and get outta here, all right? I don’t wanna stick around for too long.” 

V stumbled after the panther, skirting around the numerous pedestrians as he practically had to jog to keep up. 

“You know,” V suggested. “If you’re worried someone will attack you, I can always unsummon you while we walk around the city.”

It was a tempting offer, honestly; Umbra couldn’t deny that. Even now, the constant noise from the city streets was starting to irritate him, and the thought of dissociating into a dormant tattoo to avoid his oncoming headache was alluring. 

But then he remembered how hopelessly stupid his master was, and Umbra quickly rejected the idea.

“If I did that, you would get mugged in the first five seconds.” Umbra rolled his eyes. “Someone has to babysit you and make sure you don’t get killed.”

V was slightly offended by this, though he hid it well with a playful smirk. “Babysit me? Come on, I’m not _that_ helpless. I’m a grown adult!” 

“You’re also an amnesiac with no sense of direction,” Umbra countered. “My point still stands.”

Umbra quickly crossed the busy street, V following at his heels like the lost puppy he was. “We’re getting out of here as soon as possible.”

V frowned a bit as Umbra said this. He was really hoping to look around Sapere City a bit and enjoy what it had to offer. Even more so, he was hoping to search the city for any clues about his past. But, noticing how tense his familiar was, he reluctantly obeyed. 

The first thing they needed to do was find a map. The city was huge, after all, and even a seasoned traveler like Umbra can get lost in the maze of buildings and streets. Fortunately, Umbra knew just where to find one. 

They made their way towards the heart of the city, landmarked by a circular lake that was at least a mile in diameter. Surrounding it was a large sidewalk lined with benches and trees, overlooking the water. The otherwise peaceful pedestrian walkway was surrounded by a rather daunting roundabout, at least 4 lanes of heavy traffic encircling the lake and connecting to Sapere City’s major streets. Even now, from the far end of the roundabout, Umbra could spot a large sign near the walkway that sported a detailed map of Sapere City. 

“Stay close,” Umbra instructed V as he waited for an ample opportunity to cross. “Unless you want to get run over.”

V complied and waited at Umbra’s side, watching as his familiar searched for a gap in the constant flow of traffic. After a few minutes, though, V’s mind began to wander, as did his attention. His eyes trailed across the numerous buildings lining the roadway, which all seemed to blend together in V’s mind the longer he stood there. They all had that dull, slate gray color, steely and cold, emotionless and drab. They didn’t have those flashy neon lights or electronic billboards from earlier, either, leaving their walls lifeless and bare. For someone who enjoyed sightseeing, it was a rather disappointing scene to take in.

Eventually, however, V’s eyes wandered to a smaller building in the distance, and he paused. Sandwiched between the towering complexes, this one-story structure stuck out like a sore thumb, and it definitely piqued V’s interest. Curiosity eventually got the best of him, and V absentmindedly left Umbra’s side and walked towards the building to get a closer look. 

It was a shotgun store, upon closer inspection, dilapidated from years of wear and tear and periods of neglect. Its brick walls had recently been washed, however, and the windows were spotless, so at least it was currently in good care. The owners had even placed little flower boxes by the door lined with tulips, offering at least a small inkling of color to the otherwise drab neighborhood. 

The sign above the door read “Novela del Lago”, a sort of tongue-in-cheek reference to how novel this store by the lake truly was.

Curiously, V peered through the shop window, and his eyes illuminated at the sight. The shop was lined wall-to-wall with hundreds of books, organized by the dozens in every genre imaginable. V was absolutely mesmerized by it all. Part of him wished he could go inside and just spend all day reading them. He wanted to read them all.

Around this time, Umbra finally found that break in the traffic flow he needed to cross, and he barked over his shoulder for V to come along. After a few steps, however, he quickly realized that V was nowhere to be found. Umbra panicked for about 2 seconds total until he saw a familiar white-haired idiot staring through a shop window, and the panther groaned. He really did have to babysit his dumbass master, didn’t he? 

Umbra trudged over to the bookstore, and sure enough, V was there, his face practically glued to the shop window and his eyes wide like a child on Christmas.

“Great, NOW what is it?” Umbra huffed. He was clearly growing impatient.

When V didn’t respond, Umbra groaned yet again and peered through the window, himself. Unlike V, however, the demon was far from impressed. 

“What’s so great about some dumb family bookstore?” Umbra gruffed, rolling his eyes. 

But V was in total awe, as a new kind of memory started to come back to him. Unlike his previous memories, however, it didn’t appear to him in visions. Rather, he just had this feeling...an undeniable feeling of warmth and familiarity from deep within his soul. It felt comforting, welcoming, inviting, like he had just come home after hours of traveling in the cold. He knew that this was important to him — very important — like part of his soul had just been awakened. 

Finally, V answered his familiar in a starstruck voice: “I think I just remembered that I love books.” 

Immediately V turned towards his familiar with pleading eyes, like a kid begging for a puppy. “I know you want to leave, but can I at least browse around? Please? It’ll only take a few minutes, I promise.”

When Umbra refused to falter, V continued to bargain. “Come on, it’s not like I’m gonna drag you in there with me! You can just wait out here while I look around. See, I don’t even have to unsummon you! And you can always keep an eye on me through the window. Come on, Umbra, please?” 

Umbra was absolutely disgruntled, but he knew better than to argue with a stubborn human. Besides, those puppy-dog eyes were making him feel guilty…

“All right, fine.” Umbra sighed in defeat. “Take a quick look around. I’ll wait here.”

V practically squealed in response. 

“Thanks, Umbra! I’ll be right back.” V barely managed to get the words out of his mouth before eagerly entering the store, leaving the door hanging wide open behind him. 

Umbra sighed and closed the door behind him. _/Great, now he’s a dumbass AND a nerd./_

The inside of the bookstore was nothing to brag home about: plain wooden floors, bare brick walls, and dusty shelves. But, nevertheless, V was entranced. He didn’t even know where to start, there were so many genres and authors to choose from. He found himself wandering aimlessly from bookshelf to bookshelf, running his fingers over their leather-bound spines.

The girl behind the counter, who appeared to be around V’s age, was absorbed in one of her favorite fantasy novels when he entered, and only then did she look up and notice his presence. She scrambled to close her book and greeted the new customer with a friendly smile. 

“Oh! Sorry to keep you waiting. Welcome.” The girl stood from her chair and walked in front of the counter. “How can I help you?” 

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just browsing,” V replied shyly. He felt guilty for pulling her away from her book, honestly. “You can go back to reading, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” The girl insisted, fidgeting with the black ring on her right middle finger. “I’ve read that old book a million times, now. We don’t get a lot of customers around here, so I read to pass the time.” 

V frowned a bit before glancing back at the shelves. “That’s too bad, really...this place has a beautiful collection.”

The girl smiled slightly at V. It was refreshing, honestly, to have a customer look beyond the shabby architecture and appreciate her family’s work for a change. 

“Well, we have just about every kind of book you can think of.” The girl leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “What kind of books do you like?”

V ran his fingers through his hair in embarrassment. “I...don’t remember, actually.” 

When the girl gave V a curious look, V awkwardly explained: “I know that sounds kinda weird out-of-context, but you see...I sort of have amnesia. I woke up yesterday in Impetus City, and I didn’t remember anything, not even my own name. I’ve gotten a little bit of my memory back since then...but not much.”

“O-oh...” The girl stammered slightly, unsure of how to respond. 

She quickly shook it off, however, and smiled at V once more.

“Well, maybe I can help. With the book thing, obviously, not the memory loss.” She added the last sentence sheepishly before pursing her lips. “Hm...you strike me as a poetry kind of guy. Someone who reads between the stanzas, looking for the greater meaning.” 

“If you say so,” V shrugged his shoulders in an i-don’t-know sort of gesture. It was a good place to start, if nothing else.

The girl eagerly climbed onto the ladder and sailed over to the poetry section, the tendrils of hair that hung from her double buns fluttering in the breeze. She expertly grabbed a book from the top shelf before hopping down and handing it to V, giggling to herself a bit. “Hehe, I love doing that.”

As V opened the book and skimmed through the pages, the girl explained: “I figured I’d start you off with the basics: Robert Frost, _Mountain Interval_ collection, 1916. You’ve probably heard of the last one — _The Road Not Taken_. You know…’two roads diverged in a yellow wood’...”

“Yeah, I think I remember that one,” V smiled a bit as the words came flowing back to him. “‘And both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black...I kept the first for another day, yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.’”

The girl laughed, in spite of herself. “I’ve never heard someone quote that stanza before. Usually it’s ‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.’” 

She gave V a playful smirk. “You must really know your poetry, Mr. Amnesiac.”

“It’s all coming back to me, I guess.” V blushed slightly in reply, running his fingers through his hair in that shy manner of his. 

The girl chuckled before snatching the book and placing it back on the shelf. “Let’s go for something a little more challenging, then.” 

She delicately plucked a collection of William Shakespeare’s sonnets from a lower shelf and offered it to V. “ _Shakespeare’s Sonnets: With Three Hundred Years of Commentary_ , published in 2007. The collection, not the sonnets.” 

She gave V a cheeky grin. “How’s this for advanced?”

V chuckled softly. “I don’t know...I personally always thought Shakespeare was overrated.” 

The girl let out an over-dramatic gasp, grinning playfully. “Shakespeare? Overrated? Such blasphemy!” 

“Oh, you know it’s true,” V gave the girl a playful smirk of his own. “His most famous line from Taming of the Shrew is literally a sex joke.”

The girl snorted in response. He honestly wasn’t wrong…

“All right. No Shakespeare, then.” The girl placed the book back on the shelf and continued to search. “Hm...there has to be a perfect fit here somewhere…”

She gestured for V to come over. “Get over here, Sonnet Hater. I can’t do all the work.” 

V nodded and bent down beside the girl, scanning his eyes across the poetry shelves. They really did have an impressive collection; practically every famous poet’s work was somewhere on these shelves, from modern republishings to rare first editions. Emily Dickinson, Edgar Allan Poe, Langston Hughes, Maya Angelou, Shel Silverstein...they were all there. But none of them were really speaking to him. 

V scratched his chin thoughtfully as he continued to browse. Surely there must be something here that clicked with him…

That’s when he saw it: a brown leather-bound book with golden fastenings, its spine noticeably blank. Curious, V pulled the book out from the middle shelf and checked the front cover. There was nothing there, either, not even a title. Its only inscription was a gold letter V etched into the front. 

There was that feeling again — that this felt oddly familiar to him somehow, though V couldn’t quite place his finger on it. 

“Hey, what about this one?” V asked the girl, showing her the book. “It doesn’t have an author…”

The girl stared at the book for a moment, a puzzled look on her face. “Hm...that one might be a personal collection. Try checking the inside cover.”

V nodded and opened the book to the first page. Still no author, much to V’s befuddlement. What was even stranger, however, was the message written on the inside cover in red ink: “Property of Vergil Sparda.” 

“Oh, yeah, I remember this one now!” The girl exclaimed, having read the name over V’s shoulder. “It was a personal journal — obviously that guy’s — that was donated anonymously about a week ago. It had these weird notes in the back that not even Papá could decipher...but we put it in the poetry section because it also had a huge collection of William Blake poems.” 

V’s eyes widened suddenly. “William Blake…” 

Quickly he flipped to the first poem and skimmed through the stanzas, and suddenly it all started flooding back to him. As he continued to thumb through the poems, the words came flowing back to his mind faster than his eyes could read.

“I know these…” V whispered in astonishment. “I know all of these! It’s like I know all of them by heart…”

“No way, seriously?” The girl was taken aback for a moment before leaning in closer with interest. “You mean, like, in an ‘I like these poems’ kinda way, or an ‘I just remembered something really important’ kinda way?” 

“Definitely the latter,” V replied breathlessly. 

V continued to flip through the pages, and suddenly, the entire book’s format seemed to change drastically. Instead of the elegant, decorated poems printed on fine paper, these pages were plain and handwritten, as if someone had hastily added them as an afterthought. It appeared to be a series of journal entries, although they were written in a peculiar, runelike language that no ordinary human could decipher. 

The notes, V observed, were taken between the months of May and June, ending abruptly on June 15th — the day before that newspaper article was published, and exactly one month before V woke up on the beach. Finally, he noticed a shaky yet elegant signature at the bottom of each entry: a single V.

For the third time since he had awakened in the hospital, the world seemed to melt away from V’s senses as a series of visions flashed before his eyes. He saw himself reciting poetry from the book, the words rolling off his tongue as if they were second-nature to him. The vision flashed, and now he saw himself at an old mahogany desk, hastily fastening the newer pages into the spine of the decades-old book. He appeared to be transcribing his notes from various books and tomes of old, all written with those exact same symbols and runes. 

Unlike the V from his last flashback, however, this V looked much more sickly and frail, as if all of his strength and vitality were being drained away somehow. V swore he could see faint cracks running up and down his past self’s arms, as if his skin was turning to dust; even now, small pieces were starting to flake off and litter the desk. Even his face was beginning to crumble, V realized with a start, as he recalled a small crack by his left eyelid that ran down his face like a teardrop. 

This couldn’t be right, V found himself thinking. He seemed so healthy now, and his past self in his first two visions looked nothing like this. What in the world happened to him? Why wasn’t it happening now? 

Finally, he saw his past self write his signature, which still managed to look so elegant despite his hands shaking as he wrote: a single V.

All at once, V snapped back to reality, and he looked down at the poetry book with shaking hands of his own.

“This was my book!” He exclaimed suddenly, the revelation tumbling out of his mouth before he could even process it in his mind.

When the girl gave him an inquisitive look, V hastily explained: “I just had another flashback...I remember reading this book, and writing all those notes…including that signature...”

V shook his head in disbelief. _/So that’s why “V” sounded so familiar to me in the hospital…/_

As if someone had merely flipped a switch, the girl went from staring at V in shock to eagerly asking him questions. 

“No way, seriously?!” The girl sounded even more bewildered about this revelation than V did, honestly; in fact, she was downright elated. “This is huge! This book must’ve been really important to you.”

“Apparently,” V replied, still mesmerized by it all. 

“Does that mean you’re the one who donated it, too?” The girl wondered aloud. “You said you woke up yesterday, right? The book was donated a week ago, and not even Mamá and Papá know who dropped it off…so maybe you left it here before you lost your memory?” 

The girl gave V a contemplative look. “I mean, it would make sense. The front cover says ‘Property of Vergil Sparda’, and your signature is a V. Maybe Vergil is your full name?” 

V shook his head in reply. While everything else seemed to click into place in his mind, the thought of being called Vergil...for some reason, it just didn’t seem right. Still, V flipped back to the front cover and compared his signature to the handwriting of Vergil, just to make sure. Sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed; even if, by some weird coincidence, they both shared the same name, V could tell from the handwriting alone that he and Vergil were definitely not the same person. 

“I don’t think so.” V explained his reasoning to the girl. “Vergil’s handwriting looks way different than mine.” 

The girl pursed her lips in thought. “That makes sense, I suppose. But still, if you wrote those notes in the back, that definitely means you owned it previously. Those notes end on June 15th, though, and we didn’t get it until last week…maybe you gave the book to someone else? Or it got stolen?” 

“Maybe,” V’s head was starting to ache, and he snapped the book closed. “I don’t remember enough to know for sure.”

V glanced back towards the front window, and his eyes met with a rather annoyed Umbra, who was quickly growing impatient. He’d better wrap this up soon. 

“But still, this could be a really important key to figuring out my past,” V smiled up at the girl. “How much is it?” 

In that exact moment, however, V suddenly realized that he had no money to his name, and his face fell flat. 

“Should be around 20 dollars,” The girl answered promptly, but upon seeing the look on V’s face, she quickly added: “But since it used to belong to you and all that, I can probably get away with giving it to you free of charge.” 

“Really?” V’s eyes lit up at the offer. “Thank you so much—“

V’s voice trailed off for a moment, and he looked up at the girl expectantly, hoping to hear her name. 

The girl gasped and slammed her face into her palm in embarrassment. “Ah, dios mio! I never told you my name, did I?”

She tucked a strand of maroon hair behind her ear. “My full name is Rosalinda Martinez, but you can call me Rose.” 

“In that case, thank you, Rose.” V smiled graciously. “For everything. I’ll pay you back for this someday, I promise.”

V turned around and exited the bookstore, tucking his newfound book under his arm. 

“Good luck!” Rose called out after him as he left. 

A rather exasperated Umbra was waiting for V when he finally exited the bookstore. As soon as the door closed behind him, Umbra was on the move once more, forcing his master to follow on his heels.

“And what exactly did any of that accomplish?” Umbra sneered, crossing the roundabout with little warning and leaving a rather frazzled V to sprint after him. 

“Hey, slow down!” V called out after him with a groan, and his familiar thankfully stopped in front of the map and allowed him to catch up. “This book used to belong to me. It has all these William Blake poems in it, and I remember that I used to recite them all the time—“

“Nope, still sounds useless,” Umbra interrupted with a yawn, much to V’s annoyance. “What’s so important about some dumb poetry book?” 

V glared at his familiar for but a moment before flipping to the back of the book, examining those strange notes once more. As he thumbed through the entries, however, he slowly began to realize that those strange symbols and runes weren’t just from any old language — they were ancient spells from the demonic realm, and he was elated to find that he could still decipher them. 

Grinning, V looked down at his mysterious cane, which he now knew to be the vessel for his sorcery. 

“It’s not just a poetry book,” V told Umbra triumphantly. “It’s a spellbook.” 

* * *

As V and Umbra continued to make their way through Sapere city, V’s nose was buried in his new book, reading through every last spell he had recorded before he lost his memory. It was like the Rosetta Stone for his powers. Every weird thing that had happened to him up until this point — the teleportation, the tracking spell, the familiar bond — it was all finally making sense now. 

He was a sorcerer, V realized with delight, and it filled him with a sense of identity he had been yearning to find. He finally knew what he was, and now everything else will fall back into place. 

...Hopefully. 

Meanwhile, Umbra was at his wits end trying to keep V from running into anything, since he refused to look up from his book and pay attention to his hectic surroundings. 

“Will you put that damn thing down already?” Umbra snarled for what felt like the 50th time. “Can’t you at least wait to read until _after_ we’re out of the city?” 

“But Umbra, this book is full of vital information about my powers,” V insisted, not even looking up from his reading as he responded. “There’s literally hundreds of spells in here. I need to relearn them all if I ever want to control my magic.” 

V looked up for a moment and raised a cunning brow at his familiar. “I mean, if you ever want me to free you, I have to remember how to undo the spell, first. You said it yourself when we first made our deal, remember?”

Umbra’s ears drooped against the sides of his head. He did say that, didn’t he? 

_/I liked it better when you were a dumbass.../_ Umbra thought to himself broodingly.

“All right, fine. Guess I’ll have to pretend I’m interested, huh?” Umbra sighed and stopped at the crosswalk, licking the back of his paw in a bored manner. “What kind of spells have you found so far?” 

“Most of them are combat-related,” V answered informatively, not paying his familiar’s attitude much mind. “But there’s also practical-use spells, like the teleporting one I used to escape the hospital. There’s also fire spells, invisibility and stealth-related spells, spells that can create illusions and transform other objects...”

“How about a spell that breaks familiar bonds?” Umbra gave V an expectant look before beginning to cross. “Come on, Shakespeare, we have a walk signal.”

V caught up to Umbra and thumbed through the pages, skimming through all the different spells. When he came up short, however, he shook his head in reply, prompting a frustrated groan from his familiar.

“Then how the hell did you manage to capture me?” Umbra growled in annoyance. “I can understand the other spells being instinctive — demon blood’s good for that kind of thing — but there’s no way you just _instinctively_ pulled one of the most complex demonic skills in existence out of your ass.”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” V replied, puzzled. “Every spell I’ve ever cast is in here except that one...I can’t figure out why.”

V closed the book and stashed it in his inner coat pocket. He lifted his cane from his shoulder and held it out horizontally in front of him, turning it over and over with both hands as he contemplated.

He tried his hardest to think back to his old familiar, furrowing his eyebrows as he strained to recall the female panther. But recalling his memories was much more difficult without some sort of queue. He finally managed to pull up a mental image, but it was vague and murky at best, as if it were lost in a sea of sludge. 

He saw the panther — or what he assumed to be the panther — clamping down on his cane with her jaws. Was she fighting him, like Umbra had during their battle...or was she just as terrified as V was? He honestly couldn’t tell. 

He could hear his voice echoing faintly in his mind, as if it were a world away: “Look at me...choose for yourself...will you die...or struggle to live?”

The memory began to peter out, but V strained himself to dig deeper into the tresses of his mind, despite his mental exhaustion. He heard varied grunts and snarls — was there some sort of fight? — as he struggled to recall what happened next. 

He heard a few more echoed voices: “If you choose to struggle...then I need you.”

Finally, another murky image surfaced, and the panther returned to the forefront of his mind. What shocked V, however, was what happened next. 

The panther...licked him! 

He remembered the feline licking his face affectionately, the complete opposite of what Umbra had done. In this moment, the panther’s name finally came back to him — Shadow. 

V managed to recall one last murky image before returning to reality. He didn’t see himself, nor his familiar, but he did see a strange black pattern bubbling up from the sea of eigengrau. He could just barely make out the details, but he quickly realized that this was the same tattoo he had acquired from capturing Umbra. He could just barely hear his voice, at this point, and all he could make out was just one little word: “contract.”

Finally, the mental strain was just too much for V to handle, and he forced himself to open his eyes. Apparently, Umbra had forced him to stop walking at some point during the episode, and they now stood in a small alleyway away from the main traffic. A massive headache seemed to overcome V, and he winced as he gripped his head in pain. 

“Okay, I know random blackouts are a normal thing with you, but what the hell just happened?” Even Umbra seemed slightly worried, which was saying something. 

“I tried thinking back to how I got Shadow,” V replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know...my old familiar. I didn’t expect it to be that difficult, though.”

V shook his head as if to clear it, though the pain continued to linger. “I didn’t remember much...but the bond I made with her felt different somehow. I know that much.” 

“That’s probably because it was actually made with consent,” Umbra glowered at V. “You know, the consent that I never gave.” 

“No, there’s more to it than that,” V argued, rubbing his forehead temples in a vain attempt to calm his migraine. “It was almost like we were fighting to stay alive...and our lives depended on this contract. I think she needed me just as much as I needed her…” 

“Again, that would be the consent,” Umbra replied snidely, although his expression did soften a bit. “But you’re right. Most familiar bonds are made via a contract ritual...usually when it’s a matter of life or death.”

Suddenly, Umbra seemed to put two and two together in his mind, and all at one his malice disappeared in an instant. 

“That must’ve been how you captured me…you triggered that ritual…”

Umbra looked away shamefully, avoiding his master’s eyes as realization seemed to hit Umbra like a ton of bricks. 

“That whole battle...you weren't trying to enslave me, or kill me, or fight back. You were just trying to survive...” Umbra’s voice was incredibly quiet, the quietest V had ever heard from him. 

“...And I was the damn fool that tried to kill you.”

Umbra’s ears drooped shamefully as he said this, wrapping his tail in front of his paws and staring down at the ground. This was all his fault, he realized gravely. He should never have attacked the kid. V tried to explain this to him from the beginning, but he was too stubborn to listen. And now they were bound together for life, whether Umbra liked it or not. 

“There is no spell to reverse the contract ritual. I’m stuck like this.” Umbra’s voice cracked slightly. Was he...crying? “...And you’re stuck with the worst familiar ever.”

V’s headache had mostly subsided, at this point, and his heart ached when he looked down at the panther. Slowly, he bent down and placed a gentle hand on Umbra’s back, stroking his fur tenderly. Umbra tensed up, at first, but he slowly forced himself to relax. He may have hated human contact, but the kid was just trying to help. Besides, if they were partners for life now...he may as well learn to get used to it. 

“You’re not the worst familiar ever, trust me.” V gave Umbra a small smile. “Sure, we started off on the wrong foot...but you’ve helped me get this far. And you definitely saved me from getting run over enough times.” 

Umbra chuckled softly in response, though his expression was still far from happy. 

“I know it’s my fault we’re stuck like this,” V continued with a sigh. “And I wish so badly that I could take it back…but, if we are stuck like this, we may as well make the best of it, right?” 

V offered his hand out to Umbra, just as he had when they first met. “So, what do you say? Friends? Allies? Acquaintances? Not enemies?”

Umbra stared at V’s open palm for a moment, blinking his eyes slowly. From the moment they had met, V had been nothing but kind to him, even when Umbra was nothing but a pompous bastard in return. He really was different from the humans he had been taught to hate…

Finally, Umbra sighed and brought his paw — not his tail — up to V’s hand, and he didn’t even flinch as his master clasped it and shook it firmly. Whether he liked it or not, he was V’s familiar, and it was about time he started acting like it. 

“...Friends.” Umbra said finally, looking V in the eyes for but a moment before dropping his gaze to the ground again.

V smiled at his companion. Looks like this stubborn old panther wasn’t such a bad kitty, after all. 

Noticing the sun slowly setting on the horizon, V sat himself down on the concrete. “You know, we’ve both done a lot of walking today. How about we rest here for a little bit? We can start up again at nightfall.”

“That would be nice,” Umbra answered quietly.

V began to pull out his staff, but Umbra nervously shook his head. “Just...don’t unsummon me, okay? Please. It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything, I just...I’ve been free for so long, you know? I...I don’t want to lose that yet.” 

V gave his familiar a sympathetic nod and stowed away his cane. He’ll only unsummon him when he’s ready. 

Relaxing a bit, V leaned his head back against the wall and lightly closed his eyes, letting his long white hair fall in front of his face. Umbra was hesitant at first, shifting his gaze between his master, his master’s cane, and his own front paws. After awhile, however, Umbra finally gave in and nestled himself up next to V, forcing himself to close his eyes. Smiling a bit, V placed a loving arm around his companion and stroked his fur softly, relaxing the panther until he finally fell asleep. Call him crazy, but V swore he could even hear Umbra purring — just a little — with a newfound feeling of content. 

He was no Shadow by any means, but Umbra was still his familiar...and that made him family, in V’s book.


	7. The Valley of the Skull

Nero refused to come out of the sleeping quarters for the rest of the day. Even as Nico drove back to the rest stop in that reckless manner of hers, Nero never strayed from his futon bed, instead simply grabbing onto the bedside dresser to keep himself from rolling off. He stayed there for hours, it felt like, and no matter how many soothing words Nico tried to say to him, nothing was enough to coax Nero out of the little room. Not even the tempting smell of dinner lured him outside. 

It was well after sunset when Nero finally rose to his feet and slowly unlatched the door. But even then, it was just to let Nico in. As soon as Nico took her glasses off and laid them on her dresser, Nero flopped right back down onto his futon bed, his back turned away from Nico and his eyes staring aimlessly ahead. 

Nico sighed and climbed into her bed, as well, though she didn’t bother trying to talk to Nero. If he was still upset after this long, she knew this was serious, and she wished so badly she could help...but she just didn’t want to risk making it any worse. 

Eventually, Nico rolled over towards the wall and turned off the overhead light, forcing herself to close her eyes. At this point, all she could do was hope that he’ll feel better in the morning. It would be over an hour before she finally relaxed enough to fall asleep, knowing full well that the recurring nightmare would come back tonight with a vengeance. 

But if anyone was having trouble sleeping, by far, it was Nero. The devil hunter tossed and turned for what felt like hours on end, trying and failing to calm his restless mind. Every time he closed his eyes and attempted to fall asleep, images of his battle against the Hydra flashed against the back of his eyelids. Groaning, Nero wrapped his head in his blanket until all he could see is black, but still the memories remained, reeling in his mind like an old movie film. 

He saw himself in the car with Nico, sticking his head stubbornly out the window and refusing to look her in the eye. He remembered what he had said to her — that nasty, bitter remark that he could handle this on his own — all because he thought he was weak. 

Nico’s words from the night before echoed in his mind, rattling his thoughts: _“Just be careful, all right? You shouldn’t be pushing yourself too hard. You could wind up getting hurt…”_

Nero winced as he recalled it. She never did say he was weak, did she? She didn’t even insinuate it. All Nico was trying to do was look out for him...and he pushed it away like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum. 

This was all on him, Nero realized gravely. He let himself get inside his head. He was so angry with himself, so frustrated, so upset, that he took a friend’s genuine advice and internalized it until it became a personal vendetta. Nico never said he was weak — Nero did.

This was all his fault. 

_/Nico was right,/_ Nero thought to himself with a sigh. _/She was right about everything./_

Nico tried so hard to warn him, but he was too damn stubborn to listen. Nero could’ve stopped himself from reaching this point, but he didn’t; he had to let himself fall flat on his face, to crash and burn at rock bottom, before he finally took Nico’s words to heart. And now, as he buried his face underneath his pillow, he heard them loud and clear. 

He _was_ pushing himself too hard. He _was_ out of control. He _was_ being stupid and selfish and reckless — just like his bastard father. 

Nero fought back the urge to whimper, biting down on his lip so hard that it bled. He swore he would never be like Vergil, the disgraced Son of Sparda who chose power over everything else — even his own son. In Nero’s opinion, his father was nothing but a monster, a power-hungry son-of-a-bitch who was no better than the demons Nero slayed. But after everything that happened over the last 24 hours — losing control, summoning a demonic structure, putting thousands of innocent lives in danger, using anger and malice to max out his demonic power, and putting Nico in peril — was Nero really that much better?

The thought of becoming like his father...it shook Nero down to his very core. Vergil had nearly lost everything in his pursuit of power, even his own humanity. Was Nero really losing himself, too? It terrified him, honestly. If Vergil was nothing but a vile, heartless monster...what did that make him?

The battle against the Hydra continued to play out in Nero’s mind, as much as it pained him. He remembered screaming at his partner that he didn’t need her, only to be carried to safety in her arms just a few minutes later. He was so stupid and reckless; none of this would’ve happened if he had just heeded Nico’s advice and swallowed his damn pride. 

He knew he was being reckless, even when his mind was clouded with anger. But now, Nero realized with horror, his stupid decisions have gone from reckless to downright dangerous. It was about more than just endangering himself, at this point; he was endangering everyone. It was one thing when all he had to worry about was getting himself hurt. Hell, he survived getting his arm cut off, so it’s not like getting pummeled by a demon was that big of a deal anymore. No, what terrified him was that Nico could’ve gotten hurt...or worse, he could’ve hurt her. 

Nero cursed at himself silently under his breath. He really made Nico step into the heat of battle just to save his sorry ass, didn’t he? Choosing to be stupid and not use a devil breaker was Nero’s decision, but Nico didn’t have a choice. Nico was _forced_ to watch him run out of vitality and fall to his knees. She was _forced_ to hold her breath in a fog of deadly poison and carry him to safety. She was _forced_ to flee the city, _forced_ to launch the van off a cliff, _forced_ to escape from an eight-headed monster...and for what? To save a dumbass who couldn’t even admit he was wrong, that’s what. 

Nico risked her life to save Nero, but she shouldn't have had to save him. He could’ve prevented all of this. None of this would’ve happened if he wasn’t so stupid. But he was stupid...and selfish, and reckless...and it nearly cost him his best friend’s life. Nico didn’t have demon blood to protect her. She could’ve _died_ out there.

And it would’ve been all his fault.

Nero wished his guilty conscience stopped there, but it didn’t. Almost against his will, his mind drifted back even farther, all the way back to his first battle against Urizen. It felt like so long ago, now — back before he knew the truth about Vergil, back when V was still around, and back when Dante was nothing more than a wacky, pizza-loving colleague. He remembered when he had lost the battle, when Dante had called him dead weight. Even now, over a month later, his uncle’s words still stung like acid, but now it was for a completely different reason. 

Dante was just trying to protect him, Nero realized over a month too late. He knew that Nero was his brother’s son — his own nephew — long before Nero ever found out. He cared about Nero, helped him build his own Devil May Cry branch from the ground up, and was always there to help him if need be. But Nero took all of this for granted, and when Dante called him dead weight, he threw all of it away. Instead of cherishing those last few days with his uncle, he held the pettiest of grudges until the hour Dante crossed into hell. He pushed away the one halfway-decent relative he had...all because he overreacted.

All. His. Fault. 

But the worst part about all of this was that Dante was right — more than right. Nero _was_ nothing but dead weight. He was lousy as a devil hunter and even lousier as a friend. He was a useless, deadweight bastard who couldn’t save anyone if he tried. 

But after what happened today, he was something even worse than dead weight, God forbid. He was a burden, a liability, a danger to those he loved most. He was a monster.

Finally, in the dead of night, Nero sat himself up in his bed and sighed. It was becoming increasingly obvious what he needed to do. He clearly wasn’t in his best mental state right now, and he couldn’t risk endangering anyone else because of his own stupidity. He needed to be alone, far away from everyone he held dear — far away from anyone he might hurt. It was the only way to protect them. It was the only way to save them from himself. 

Careful not to stir Nico in her sleep, Nero slowly stood up and left the sleeping quarters, closing the sliding door silently behind him. Nero grabbed Red Queen and Blue Rose from the weapons cabinet and made his way to the door, not even bothering to say goodbye. But when Nero grasped the door handle with his left hand, he faltered. His eyes trailed back towards the sleeping quarters, where Nico was resting peacefully, and his heart stung in his chest. He couldn’t just leave without a trace, not after all she had done for him. 

So, before he left, Nero grabbed a sticky note from Nico’s workbench and hastily wrote a message to his partner:

> _Dear Nico,_

> _I’m sorry you had to put up with_ ~~_me_ ~~ _my bullshit these past few weeks. I haven’t been thinking straight ever since the Qliphoth, and I should’ve_ ~~_done this_ _done something_~~ _said something sooner. I thought I was strong enough_ ~~_to handle this,_ _to hide th—_ _on my own_~~ _but I’m not. I’m supposed to be protecting this city...but I can’t protect anyone like this. If I stay, I’ll only wind up getting_ ~~_you_ ~~ _everyone hurt._ ~~_Everyone would be better off_ ~~ _It’d be better for everyone if I just left._

Tears threatened to fall down Nero’s face, but Nero stubbornly held them back. No, he couldn’t cry, not while Nico was sleeping so soundly. Stubbornly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he continued to write:

> _The point is...I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll come back. I just need some time to figure things out for myself. Don’t worry about me, though. I’ll be okay. Just head back to Red Grave and help out Lady and Trish while I’m gone. I’ll come back to Devil May Cry when I get my shit together._

> _\- Nero_

Nero glanced over what he had written, and a lump began to form in his throat. His mind drifted back to Kyrie for less than a second, wondering without words how disappointed she would be in him right now, and a small sob managed to briefly escape his lips. Fearfully, his eyes darted over to the sleeping quarters, but thankfully, Nico never heard. Nero’s hands shook as he wrote down one more message, biting down as hard as he could on the collar of his sweat-jacket to keep from crying any harder.

> _P.S.: Don’t tell Kyrie about any of this. Please. I don’t want her to worry._

The lump in Nero’s throat continued to swell, but he refused to let himself cry. Instead, wiping his eyes stubbornly, Nero carefully placed the two notes on the record player, where he knew Nico would find them. 

Nero exited the van in silence and closed the door gently behind him, but even then, he didn’t let himself cry. Instead, he turned and ran as fast as he could in a random direction, breaking into a devil sprint and refusing to look back. He didn’t know where he was going, or if he’d ever find his way back, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that anywhere was better than here. 

He found himself running northward, sprinting into the overgrown brush of a dark and unkempt valley. The trees and shrubs were so wild, so untamed from centuries of neglect, that Nero could’ve sworn it was a forest. The wild grass was so tall that it tangled in his boots, and not even the light of the full moon could penetrate the dense canopy overhead. Nero could barely see in front of him, it was so dark and dismal in the valley, but he refused to slow down. Not even the grunts and snarls echoing eerily in the bushes gave Nero any pause. He just kept running, retreating further and further into the valley, letting the wind wipe away his tears and smother his shuddering sobs.

Little did Nero realize, however, that he was entering The Valley of the Skull.

* * *

After a few hours of resting, V and Umbra awakened at nightfall and continued their journey southward. Sapere City, although still remarkably busy, was much quieter and slow-paced at night, especially as V and Umbra left the main drag and trekked towards the city’s outskirts. The bright lights of downtown slowly faded the further they walked, until all that remained were the street lamps overhead. They even began to see the stars, just a little, peeking through the light pollution and twinkling in the night sky.

But even with the reduced traffic, V struggled to keep up with Umbra. Not only was the panther’s stubborn pace as unwavering and unnerving as ever, but now his midnight black fur began to blend in with the darkness of night, so much so that V could hardly keep track of him. Any time Umbra tread too far from the overhead lights, his whole body seemed to disappear, leaving V to stumble around blindly until the streetlamps illuminated him again. Now V was starting to understand why his old familiar was named Shadow.

“Would it kill you to stay close?” V groaned when Umbra melted into the shadows yet again. “I keep losing you!” 

“Not my fault you’re too slow,” Umbra shrugged, not thinking much of it. 

Umbra emerged under a streetlamp about 30 feet away, and V sprinted to catch up. 

“Can’t you at least try to stay together?” V snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

Umbra merely chuckled in response. “Fine. But only because you asked.” 

Without even so much as a warning, Umbra summoned one of his tendrils from his back and coiled it around V’s free hand, causing his master to yelp in surprise. The tendril didn’t hurt him, thankfully, but the appendage practically attached itself to his hand, clasping it firmly with a grip stronger than steel and refusing to let go. 

Panicking, V looked down at his familiar with fearful eyes, but this only made Umbra laugh harder. With a rather forceful tug, Umbra turned and started walking again, the force from his tendril nearly knocking V off his feet. 

“About time I put you on a leash, anyway,” Umbra replied cheekily, dragging his poor master behind him. 

Eventually, they both reached the outer edges of town. Up ahead, the Twin Peaks of Nascita stood tall and proud, diverging the highways and access roads to the east and west. Nestled in between the mountains, there also rest a strangely undeveloped and overgrown valley, looking very out-of-place among its urban surroundings. All of Sapere City’s streets either stopped abruptly or meticulously skirted around it, as if there was some unspoken rule to avoid the valley like the plague.

The street on which V and Umbra traveled was no different. As the buildings slowly began to phase out, they suddenly reached a dead-end, the paved concrete stopping abruptly and switching to a dirt path patched with grass. The entrance to the valley sat over a hundred yards away, but apparently that was still too close for comfort for the Nascitians. This abrupt transition was also marked by a 10-foot-tall metal fence, stretching from one edge of the street to the other and blocking the path ahead. As if that weren’t enough of a warning, the fence was also lined with barbed wire and adorned with several “DO NOT ENTER UNDER PENALTY OF LAW” signs.

But V, surprise surprise, still didn’t get the memo. Apparently the poetic intellectual had forgotten how to read, because he approached the barricade with no hesitation whatsoever. Thankfully, Umbra read the message loud and clear, and his eyes immediately widened. 

Before V could get too close, Umbra yanked V back towards him with his tendril leash, nearly pulling his master’s arm out of its socket in the process. But V was getting curious, at this point, and he stubbornly fought against his familiar’s grip. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” V shouted, countering Umbra’s pulling with a forceful tug of his own. “I just want to get a closer look!”

“Didn’t you read the signs, Einstein?” Umbra retorted, pulling back harder. “It says ‘DO NOT ENTER.’”

“I’m not entering, I just want a closer look!” V protested, yanking his end of the tendril again like a game of tug-of-war. “It has to be closed off for a reason!”

“That ‘reason’ is because it’s ILLEGAL!” Umbra replied incredulously. “Now get back here before someone sees you!” 

Umbra threw his entire body weight backwards and pulled with all of his might, and finally, he overpowered him. The sheer force sent V flying, however, and he plowed straight into his familiar, much to the panther demon’s contempt.

“Oi! Get OFF!” Umbra hissed and threw V off of him with his tendril arm. 

“It’s your fault I landed on you, you insolent prick,” V replied icily, swatting at Umbra’s tendril one last time for good measure. “Now, back off, will you? I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m just curious about this thing.”

Umbra recoiled a bit in surprise when V cursed at him — he still wasn’t quite used to hearing the kid swear — and begrudgingly retracted his grip. 

V stood himself up and approached the fence once more, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Why are they worried about people trespassing in the first place? The valley’s completely empty…”

“Again, have you NOT read the signs?” Umbra replied in an exasperated tone.

“I meant, _why_ is it empty?” V persisted, looking through the gaps in the wire and taking in the valley before them. “It doesn’t make any sense. All of the roads in Sapere City stop right here, and they built the highways around the mountains instead of between them.”

V narrowed his eyes a bit in contemplation. “It’s like they’re avoiding this valley for some reason...like they’re afraid of something.” 

Umbra opened his mouth to say something (probably sarcastic), but a voice came out of nowhere and drowned him out: “HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” 

Startled, V and Umbra both turned to see a police officer sprinting towards them, his hand held readily over the holster at his waist. V’s eyes shot open like cannonfire, and he instinctively raised his arms and stepped away from the fence. Umbra knew better than to cross a human with a gun, so he sat himself down in a perched position beside V and tried his best to appear non-threatening.

“Officer!” V yelped, his voice cracking a bit out of panic. “I-i wasn’t trespassing, I swear! We were just curious…”

The policeman, however, looked anything but angry. In fact, after hearing V’s reasoning, he looked downright relieved. He chuckled softly and approached V and Umbra calmly, removing his arm from his holster, and only then did the two relax. 

“Calm down, son, I’m not going to arrest you or anything.” He assured them. “You and your...uh...friend there...look pretty lost, though. Can I help you with anything?” 

“We’re trying to get to Red Grave City,” Umbra explained curtly, before V rattled off his backstory to yet another stranger. “And we were curious about the barricade.” 

The police officer’s voice went up an octave when he heard the panther speak. “O-oh...I see…” 

“Maybe you can tell us about it,” V offered, bringing the officer’s attention back to the subject at hand. “Why is there a barricade if the valley has nothing in it? And why didn’t they just build the highways through the valley? It doesn’t make sense, really…” 

The policeman stared at V blankly. “You’re not from here, are you?” 

“For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to say no,” V replied with a shrug.

The policeman gave V a rather strange look, but he shook his head and began to explain. 

“That there is The Valley of the Skull,” The officer began, pointing up at the valley ahead. “Lots of history behind that valley...none of it good, by the way. No native Nascitian with a sound mind would ever dare to walk through that valley.”

“Then...why is it closed off?” V couldn’t help but ask. 

The policeman’s face paled slightly. He really had no idea, did he? 

“Son…” The policeman sighed gravely. Could he even bring himself to say it? “...It’s a suicide valley.”

Every ounce of color drained from V’s already pale face, and he apologized profusely to the police officer. “OhmygoshI’msosorry…! I-i had no idea that...oh God...I am SO sorry, sir. I-i didn’t realize…!”

“It’s okay, son, you didn’t know. There’s no shame in asking.” The policeman assured him with a small smile. “But yes, it’s a pretty...sensitive topic. I’ll try my best to explain the basics, though.” 

The officer sighed heavily before he began. “You see, it all started thousands of years ago. In ancient times, there was a hell gate in the valley, and it was believed that no one who entered the valley ever came back alive. That’s why it has that name — The Valley of the Skull. According to legend, Sparda closed the Hell Gate 2,000 years ago, though many still believe that the valley is crawling with monsters.” 

The officer dropped his gaze to the ground. “But, of course, that’s not why we closed it off. At some point or another, people began to willingly seek out the valley to...you know...and it’s been an ongoing crisis in Nascita ever since. Some say it began with the families of past victims, wishing to rest with their loved ones. Others trace it back to the terminally ill choosing to spend their last days there. But no matter how it started, the valley quickly became an infamous place for...taking one’s life.”

V bit his lip and looked away guiltily. He felt horrible for asking, now.

“So, is that why you’re here?” Umbra asked dryly, seemingly unfazed by it all. Then again, he was a demon; human death wasn’t exactly a bad thing to his kind.

The policeman, although still wary of the panther demon, nodded in reply. “We station at least one officer around the clock to keep an eye out for...potential victims. We do our best to keep anyone besides law enforcement from entering the valley. Though, with Tumult City being so rural on the other side, and with such a smaller task force in the South...it’s tough.”

When the officer mentioned the words “Tumult City”, all at once V’s eyes widened. From what he could recall via the map in Sapere City, Tumult City was directly South of where they were now. Adding that to what the officer had just told him, this means that they would have to enter the valley if they wanted to keep heading southward. But if the valley was closed off to everyone...

V frowned suddenly. “So, if we can’t pass through the valley...how do we get to Tumult City?”

“Go around the mountains,” The police officer shrugged. “It’s a pretty long haul to Tumult, but Sapere runs a cab service through there if you need a lift. They might nail you on the mileage, though — just a heads-up.”

Realizing that they still had no money whatsoever, V smiled sheepishly in reply. “Hehe...how long would it take to get there on foot?” 

The policeman’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. 

“That could easily take days,” The police officer shook his head. “I wouldn’t suggest it.” 

V was far from satisfied with this answer. Days? Traveling on a narrow highway through the mountains? _On foot?_ V might not have remembered much, but he still had enough common sense to know that this had “roadkill” written all over it. There had to be another option. 

“But sir,” V bargained. “With all due respect, this is an urgent situation. We need to get to Red Grave City as soon as possible. I know it’s frowned upon and all that, but we need to use the valley as a shortcut, or we might never get there in time!” 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t allow that,” The police took on a much more formal tone, now that his authority had come into question. “If I were to bend the law to every sob story I heard, there’d be no law to uphold. You’re just going to have to take the long way. I’m sorry.”

V still wasn’t happy about it in the slightest, but he knew better than to argue. Sighing, V turned around and retreated back into downtown with Umbra in tow. 

“Look, I know this is pretty shitty.” Umbra tried his best to be encouraging, despite how uncharacteristic of him it was. “I’m not too happy about the delay, either, but it’s not like there’s anything we can do about it.”

But V, the mischievous little devil he was, had a different plan in mind. Already, he was flipping through the pages in his spellbook, mapping out the plan in his mind. 

“Don’t be so sure,” V smirked. 

Umbra could see the gears grinding in his master’s head, and when he saw that devilish grin on his face, his fur stood on end. 

“Oh no, whatever you’re planning on doing, we are NOT doing it.” 

Umbra whipped out his tendril arm once again and latched onto V’s left hand, beginning to drag him towards the highway. “Now, come on. Let’s get out of here already.” 

Thankfully, V had already taken Umbra’s pesky version of a child leash into account. Though the tendril restricted his movement, V flipped to a certain page in the spellbook until he found the one he needed. He hastily muttered the incantation under his breath, illuminating the very tip of his staff with a harsh red glow. 

Umbra barely had time to protest. “What are y—?”

Suddenly, V stabbed the point of his staff into the tendril, sending a shockwave of pain through Umbra’s appendage. Umbra hissed in pain and retracted his grip, freeing V once more. 

“What the hell was that?!” Umbra demanded.

“Stun spell,” V replied mildly, slinging his staff over his shoulder and stowing away his book. “You might have a leash, but I have a shock collar.”

“You do realize that attacking me does the same thing as me attacking you, right?” Umbra grimaced. 

V didn’t seem to react, at first, instead turning around and heading back into town. As he took the first few steps, however, Umbra could tell he was tensing up in pain. “Yep...but it’s still worth it.”

The next thing Umbra knew, he was the one struggling to keep up, as V purposefully made his way down the countless city streets with newfound fervor. He didn’t know what V was plotting, and after that last magic trick with his staff, he was too afraid to ask. 

The first place V took him was an old abandoned warehouse, which they had passed by earlier that afternoon. It was in sad shape, to say the absolute least. With busted windows, fallen gutters, and exposed insulation, this ramshackle building was nothing but an eyesore. Why the hell would V want to go in there? 

But, much to his horror, Umbra realized that this wasn’t V’s plan at all — not by a longshot. Thumbing through his spellbook, V muttered the words under his breath as he pointed his staff at the building, aiming straight for the exposed insulation. 

_Fwoosh!_

A barrage of flames erupted from his cane suddenly, causing Umbra to jump back nearly 20 feet in surprise. The fire spread across the building in seconds, and soon enough the entire warehouse was engulfed in flames. 

V didn’t even take the time to acknowledge it, however. Instead, he turned around and started walking to his next destination, muttering to himself: “That should keep them busy.” 

Umbra’s blood red eyes were bulging out of their sockets, at this point, and he sprinted to catch up with V. “THIS is your idea of a Plan B?” 

“Relax, Umbra. I made sure it was nothing important.” V batted off the obvious case of arson like it was nothing. “But we’re going to need more than that. We need to create enough distractions around town to scatter the whole police force. That should leave the barricade unattended long enough for us to hop over it.” 

“You’re going on a crime spree?!” Umbra half-whispered, half-yelled, keeping his voice low in case anyone could overhear. 

“No. I’m distracting the police.” V raised a cunning brow. “I prefer to be optimistic.”

And just like that, V continued with his tirade, Umbra fearfully following in his footsteps. Their next stop was a random alley several blocks away, littered with garbage. 

“Let me guess,” Umbra quipped, still managing to have a sarcastic sense of humor despite being mortified. “You’re gonna start a dumpster fire next?”

“A dumpster fire?” V chuckled sarcastically. “Ha, that’s funny.”

V whipped out his staff and recited another spell, and the tip of the cane began to turn red again. However, instead of a glowing light, the red seemed to darken and collect at the cane’s tip, resembling dried blood. V pressed his staff to the ground, and some of the crimson red began to drip out and stain the concrete, creating what almost looked like a pool of blood. 

It was then, however, that Umbra realized: it WAS a pool of blood.

“Uh...V?” Umbra chuckled nervously, watching helplessly as his master drew a trail of blood towards the dumpster. “Whose blood is that?” 

“Red orbs, probably,” V shrugged, sprinkling a few drops of blood on the dumpster for added effect. “You know how demonic spells are.” 

“Uh, no. I can honestly say that I don’t.” The fur on Umbra’s back twitched uncomfortably. 

V finished the scheme by grabbing a stray cloth on the ground and picking up a passable weapon from nearby. He finally found one — a discarded baseball bat — and dropped it in the blood pool, splattering it with blood. After touching up the fake murder weapon a bit with his staff, he stashed the baseball bat in the dumpster and closed the lid. To an unknowing investigator, this was a murder scene where the murderer had already disposed of the body, and they had attempted to dispose of the murder weapon by throwing it away. The weapon didn’t have V’s fingerprints on it, either, thanks to the cloth, so there was no way the police could trace him. 

“This should take up most of their time,” V commented lightly, slinging his staff onto his shoulder and turning around to leave. “One more good setup, and that ought to do it.” 

“V, you’re scaring me.” Umbra commented, though his tone was anything but light. 

Finally, V ventured out several more blocks until they arrived at a seemingly normal street corner. A few shops were on this block, as well as some parked cars, but nothing too interesting. However, just when Umbra thought V couldn’t be any more insane, his master made a B-line straight to the most uninteresting aspect of the whole neighborhood: the fire hydrant. 

“I know I’m gonna regret asking...but NOW what are you doing?” Umbra sighed. 

“Unscrewing the fire hydrant. What else?” V pulled out a wrench from hell-knows-where (holding it with the cloth, of course) and began to loosen the bolt. “In case you didn’t know, the water pressure is extremely high in these things. I figured it’d be a good enough mess for them to clean up.” 

“I thought that was more of a fire department kinda thing,” Umbra replied, warily taking a step back — you know how cats are with water. “How is this supposed to distract the police?”

In that exact moment, V finally loosened the bolt, and a torrent of water exploded from the hydrant. The powerful jet blasted straight into a parked car, which had oh-so-conveniently violated basic traffic laws and parked right in front of the hydrant, shattering its windows and launching it clear across the street. The momentum sent it rolling straight into a shop window, shattering the glass and setting off the sprinklers. 

V smiled as he walked away from the cacophony of burglar alarms and answered Umbra casually: “Like that.” 

After successfully sending the police of Sapere City on a wild goose chase, V returned to the barricade and hopped over the fence with ease, thanks to his newly rediscovered demonic agility. Umbra slunk his way underneath the fence in a way only shapeshifting demonic felines could before following V into the forbidden valley. 

“Well,” V said casually, blissfully ignoring the blaring of police sirens in the distance. “That was fun.” 

Umbra couldn’t help but give V a worried look as they departed. “V, I know I already said this, but...you’re honestly starting to scare me.”

* * *

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, Nero came to a stop at the edge of a clearing, pausing only to catch his breath but soon collapsing onto his knees in exhaustion. He didn’t even notice the bones and skeletons littered around the grass, nor the growls and snarls of demons hidden in the trees. All he could see and hear were the memories of all his recent failures, haunting him like a multitude of ghosts and hanging over his head like a storm cloud. 

Why was this happening to him? Nero bit back the urge to scream, to cuss himself out, to cry out for mercy to a god he didn’t believe in. Everything was perfectly fine before the Qliphoth incident — he didn’t get angry and overwhelmed like this, he didn’t lose control, he still had his Devil Bringer and a DT he could at least somewhat control. But now, less than two months later, everything was going to shit. 

_/Why did it come to this?/_ Nero thought to himself bitterly. _/Why does it always come to this?!/_

Nero pulled out Red Queen and Blue Rose and began his nightly ritual, slashing and hacking ruthlessly at the trees, channeling his inner frustration and tumult into each strike...but not even that was helping, anymore. No matter how many exceed attacks and charged bullets he unleashed, his inner storm only continued to grow. The only difference now was that Nero wasn’t angry at someone else; this time, as he hacked away at the branches with increasing rage, his anger was directed at himself. 

He hated himself. He hated everything about him. His short temper, his sharp tongue, his rash and impulsive nature...his cockiness in battle, his pettiness outside of it, his lifelong habit of being a lone wolf...he hated all of it. There was nothing good about him anymore — nothing that Nero could see, anyhow. He hated the monster he had become.

_/How did I let this happen?!/_ Nero asked himself dauntingly, unleashing a furious Roulette Spin on the overgrown shrubbery and shredding them to pieces. _/How did I let myself get this low?/_

For a moment, Nero paused, as his mind briefly wandered back to V. He remembered him saying something like this — some quote from William Blake, no doubt — but what was it? “I curse the stars in... _blah blah_ ...woe, who’s... _something_...is so high and me so low?” Something like that. 

Whatever it was, that’s definitely what Nero felt like right now. He was feeling low. Lower than low. Lower than the pits of rock bottom. He had never felt so low before, not even when—

Nero cursed at himself bitterly. _/Goddammit, Nero...stop it...don’t think about Credo.../_

But alas, his subconscious betrayed him, and he could only sit and watch helplessly as his mind sailed backwards through time. It was over five years ago, now, but the pain of losing his childhood friend was as fresh as the day it happened. His family took Nero in when no one else wanted him, he taught Nero everything he knew about the sword, he cared for Nero like a brother...but just like with Credo’s parents all those years ago, God was cruel enough to take him away, too.

Nero was fighting back tears, at this point, and he hacked away at the trees even harder. Memories of the orphanage began to wash over him — painful memories of feeling worthless, alone, and unloved. For so long, he didn’t have anyone in his life who truly cared about him; even the other orphans hated him, damning him as a bastard child, the unwanted product of a one-night stand whose existence was nothing but a mistake. 

For _so damn long,_ he never had a true family...and any family he did manage to find was always taken away...

Almost against his will, Nero thought about Dante and Vergil — mostly Vergil. That bastard...he left his mother before he even realized she was pregnant, he tore his own son’s arm off and killed an entire city for power, and he tried to kill his own twin brother. And even after Nero stepped in and knocked him down a few pegs, after vowing he wouldn’t let this sibling rivalry end in death, and even after Vergil realized that he was his son... _that bastard still left him._

Nero’s inner storm was bursting at the seams, and his attacks with Red Queen and Blue Rose became frantic. He finally understood why he felt so out of control lately, but the realization only angered him more. Yet again, the people that mattered most to him were taken away, and there was nothing he could do about it. But this time, it hurt so much worse than losing Credo. Unlike Credo and his parents, Dante and Vergil _willingly_ left Nero, abandoning him with no remorse...just like his mother did the day he was born.

Flashbacks of the orphanage returned to Nero’s mind, but now they hurt worse than ever before. For all his life, all Nero had ever wanted was a family...but the moment he finally found it, his ‘family’ chose to trap themselves in hell forever instead of being one. No matter what he did, he was never good enough; he was never worthy of love. 

He was always dead weight, a dumbass...a useless, unwanted, unlovable orphan, just like he’s always been his whole life.

**_And that’s all he’ll ever be._ **

Finally, Nero just couldn’t hold it back any longer. He unleashed his inner storm and succumbed to his anger, practically going feral. Within seconds, he went into Devil Trigger, but he was so upset that he barely even noticed. Tears began to stream down the part-demon’s face, his eyes flickering dangerously back and forth between yellow and red. Screaming soon mixed in with his tears as Nero tore his bringer claws through anything in sight, his raw, unrepressed cries mirroring the souls of the damned.

Meanwhile, V and Umbra were carefully traversing the valley, keeping their guard up for any potential threat. If what the police officer had said was true, this place was crawling with demons, and V wasn’t too keen on capturing any more of them. So, naturally, when they heard the painful and broken cries of a feral demon nearby, it definitely caught their attention. 

“What was that?” V asked warily, tightening his grip on his staff. “Umbra, do you know…?” 

“No idea,” Umbra pulled his ears painfully against the back of his head, wincing slightly. “God, it sounds awful though.” 

Curious, V withdrew his staff and summoned the tracking spell from earlier. The staff began to glow with that pulsing red light once more, flashing rapidly in the northeast direction. 

“Whatever it is, it must be close,” V remarked, and he hastily followed the tracking signal. “Come on, we should see what we’re dealing with.”

“Oh, yes. Walk straight towards the killer demon sounds. What a wonderful idea.” Umbra muttered under his breath as he followed.

Finally, the tracking spell led them straight to the demon. V and his familiar ducked behind a large bush and watched from a distance, observing the demon with interest. This demon was a peculiar one, for sure — amazingly human-like in physique — with long white hair and iridescent blue wings that doubled as claws. It appeared to be on some sort of rampage, however, practically destroying the clearing with its spectral arms. 

“Should we attack it?” Umbra suggested. “It looks like it’s just mindlessly raging. May as well knock it out before it does too much damage.” 

But V didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to observe, taking in the demon’s every move — or rather, every sound. Something felt off about its raging, feral cries...like there was something else mixed in with it...

“V!” Umbra snapped at his master, finally catching his attention. “Didn’t you hear me? I said should we atta—“

V clamped his hands down on Umbra’s jaw suddenly, despite the panther’s obvious protests. “Shhh! Listen.” 

V continued to listen to the demon’s painful, agonizing screeches. It sounded like it was hurt, almost, but its cries were too melancholy to have merely come from physical pain. It was almost like it was...

Finally, V’s eyes widened with realization. “It’s... _crying_.”

Immediately V stood from his spot behind the bush, much to his familiar’s alarm. “We have to help.”

“What?!” Umbra exclaimed. “Are you crazy? You could get killed!” 

But V, his heart aching with compassion for the demon, knew he had to do something. Demon or not, this creature was still hurting in its hour of need; if V didn’t at least try to help others the same way Nurse Holly and Rose had helped him, he’d be a hypocrite and a fool. After all, V figured, sometimes even the Devil may cry. 

Finally, V emerged fully from the bushes and slowly approached the demon, ignoring his familiar’s hushed demands to get back. The raging demon didn’t seem to notice, at first, continuing to thrash about with its back turned to the sorcerer. However, all of that changed when V was about 20 feet away from the demon, and he tentatively called out:

“Hey! Are you all right?”

The demon froze at the sound of V’s voice, its furious cries and sobs suddenly falling silent, every muscle in its body paralyzed on the spot. The words seemed to shake the demon down it its very core, lifting the curtain of red from its yellow eyes. 

Suddenly, the demon snapped its head around to face V, and V jumped in response. The longer V looked at it, however, the more V realized just how terrified this demon really was. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” V spoke in a normal tone, this time, trying his best to not come off as threatening. “Are you oka—”

Before V could finish his sentence, however, a strange spectral energy engulfed the demon suddenly, causing V to jump yet again. When the strange particles of light dissipated, V was shocked to find a human, not a demon, staring right back at him, his blue eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. 

Nero was still far too distraught to process what was going on, let alone think straight. His fight or flight instincts quickly took over, and, with his heart hammering in his chest, he turned around and ran. 

“Wait! I just want to know if you’re all right!” V tried to call out after him, but Nero didn’t respond, sprinting farther into the wilderness. 

V quickly summoned Umbra from behind the bushes. “Come on! We need to follow him!” 

For once, Umbra obeyed V’s orders without protest; he wasn’t exactly the most sympathetic demon out there, but he knew when he needed to be serious. The panther stood next to V and lowered himself in the grass, allowing his master to swiftly climb onto his back. Then, with very little warning, Umbra immediately broke into a devil sprint, chasing after the mysterious hybrid demon. 

Nero continued to run until he reached a dead-end, screeching to a stop at the edge of a steep cliff. Nero stumbled a bit, struggling to keep from toppling over and falling straight into the ravine. Desperately, he glanced to his left and his right, but, just his luck, he had nowhere else to run. Nero cursed under his breath. He should’ve known better than to think he could ever be alone. 

At last, V and Umbra arrived at the cliffside, and V quickly dismounted. 

“Please, calm down! I just want to help!” V called out to Nero, who stood dangerously close to the cliff’s edge.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Nero screamed desperately. 

V flinched when he heard Nero scream so suddenly, his voice aching with misery, heartbreak, and guilt. Nero fell to his knees in defeat and buried his face in his hands, trying and failing to hold back tears. 

“Please…” Nero managed to croak out. “I just want to be alone…” 

V’s heart stung in his chest when he heard this, and he reluctantly tore his eyes away from Nero. He had no idea who this man was, nor what might have happened to him, but one thing was for certain: the last thing this man needed was to be alone. V knew he needed to say something...but what? 

V racked his brain for the right words to say, searching for some form of advice, but his mind came up blank. However, once small quote from _When Early Morn Walks Forth in Sober Gray_ did come to mind…

Before V even realized he was speaking, the poem rolled off of his tongue as if it were second nature to him.

“I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe…” 

Nero’s eyes widened in shock. _/That poem...that was the same one that—!/_

V continued, taking a small step forward. “...That made my love so high—“ 

“...And me so low.” Nero finished breathlessly. 

Slowly, Nero rose to his feet and turned to face the long-dead fragment of his father, his eyes open as far as they could go. 

“...V?”


	8. In the Hour of Need

“...V?” 

Nero’s voice was little more than a whisper as he stared at V in shock. He couldn’t believe it; he had to be dreaming. There was no way V could’ve survived on his own after the Qliphoth incident, and after he merged with Urizen...this should’ve been impossible! How was he still alive? 

V, on the other hand, stared wide-eyed at the stranger in front of him, his heart picking up pace. How did he know his name? Did he know him somehow? If so, V sure as hell didn’t recognize him. 

A staring match seemed to break out between the two of them, their eyes locked onto each other as they struggled to put their racing thoughts into words. They were almost too afraid to speak, they were so disconcerted, but neither of them tried to run; whether it was because they yearned for answers, or simply because they were paralyzed with fear, they would never know. 

Finally, V dared to break the silence, wringing his cane in his hands nervously. “Uh...Yes?”

“V...” Nero repeated, raising an unbelieving eyebrow.

V also raised an eyebrow, though his expression was far more puzzled. “...Yes.”

“V?!” Nero said again, still struggling to believe it.

V laughed in a spastic sort of way. “Yeah, that’s...definitely my name...”

Nero’s fear seemed to erase itself completely, and within seconds he was smiling at his not-father and laughing in spite of it all. He was still confused beyond all hell, but the bewilderment of seeing V for the first time in over a month was enough to set it aside. 

“V!” Nero was practically tripping over his feet as he ran up to V and hugged him, relief washing over him. “God, it’s been forever!” 

V’s eyes popped open like firecrackers when Nero wrapped his arms around him. Unlike Nero, this reunion only gave him an extreme sense of Stranger Danger. “Uh...hi?” 

“Sorry,” Nero apologized quickly, promptly stepping away. He knew V wasn’t exactly one for physical contact, but his excitement had gotten the best of him. “Personal space. Right. My bad.”

Nero shook his head in disbelief, trying and failing to process it. “Sorry, man, I just...I can’t believe this!”

Nero gestured to V vaguely as he attempted to put his thoughts into words. “You’re here — like, _here_ here! And in one piece! Last time I saw you was at the Qliphoth, and you were all...crumbly!”

“I was... _what?”_ V looked absolutely dumbfounded.

“You know...falling apart,” Nero continued, blissfully unaware of V’s complete and utter confusion. “And then you attacked Urizen...a-and then Vergil came back, and...!”

“Wait, Vergil?” V inquired. “You mean, the guy who owned the poetry book?”

“Yeah, sure.” Nero shrugged dismissively. Whoever Vergil was, he clearly wasn’t important to Nero right now. “But that doesn’t matter. I just can’t believe you’re back!”

As soon as he said this, however, Nero’s smile dropped from his face as realization struck. “Oh my god... _you’re back.”_

V was absolutely lost, at this point, and he gave Nero a spastic look. “I mean...I guess?!”

“Vergil used Yamato again, didn’t he?” Nero’s euphoria had worn off, at this point, and the weight of the situation at hand was slowly becoming apparent. “Ugh, that bastard! He’s supposed to be in Hell with Dante! Dammit, he’s supposed to be cleaning up the mess he made, not making it even worse!”

A haunted look appeared on Nero’s face suddenly, as a new realization filled him with horror. Without even so much as a warning, Nero roughly grasped V’s arms and frantically looked into his eyes, causing V to yelp in protest. 

“Hey, what are you—?!”

“This means Urizen’s back too, doesn’t it?” Nero rattled V desperately as he spoke. “Where is he? What is he planning? We need to stop him befo—“

“LET GO OF ME!” V screamed in response, snatching his arms away from Nero’s grip. 

Panic started to rise in V’s chest once more, just like it had in the hospital less than two days before; it felt like so long ago, now, so much has happened to him since then. After he found his spellbook and remembered his identity as a sorcerer, he was honestly convinced he would never feel this way again. But now, here he was, standing face-to-face with a devil hunter he didn’t even recognize. He was so sure he had figured out who he was...but now, as V’s breathing began to shallow and his heart picked up pace, he was terrified to learn that he still knew nothing. 

“Oh shit, sorry,” Nero raised his arms as if to surrender and took a step back. “Personal space. Right. I keep forgetting…”

“Forget about the damn personal space for a second!” V fired back in response, hysteria kicking in. “What the hell are you talking about? How do you know all of this about me? How do we even know each other? Have we even met before?!”

After what felt like an eternity, V’s words finally began to penetrate Nero’s skull, and all at once his smile faded. 

“V...it’s me...Nero…” Nero’s voice grew unusually quiet. 

He knew in his gut what V’s answer would be, but for the sake of the show, he asked anyway: “Don’t you remember?”

V forced himself to keep his breathing even, but his panic attack had far from subsided. He found himself taking a fearful step back, despite screaming at himself not to, as he frantically shook his head in reply. 

Nero visibly flinched as realization struck him like a lightning bolt to the chest, snapping his heart in two. V could see the look of absolute heartbreak forming in Nero’s eyes, which were becoming fragile like glass. 

“...You have no idea who I am, do you?” Nero’s voice was barely more than a whisper. 

V’s heart shattered at the sound of Nero’s voice. He forced himself to look away, fidgeting with his ivory staff in shame. 

“No...I don’t.” V whispered. “I’m so sorry…”

Nero cursed under his breath and turned away from V, hiding his reddening eyes stubbornly. Of course God would be this cruel to him yet again, Nero figured. He brought back the human half of his father, the one half of Vergil that wasn’t evil and twisted, the one half that Nero actually cared about...only to erase his memory. He let Nero get his hopes up, taunting him with the idea that maybe his family didn’t abandon him after all, only to crush him with the reality that V didn’t even know who he was. What kind of cruel, sick joke was this?

On the bright side, at least this meant that Urizen wasn’t a problem; Vergil clearly didn’t split himself cleanly in half this time around, or else V would still have Vergil’s memories. But he still used Yamato to bring V back, Nero realized gravely, and he didn’t even bother to make sure V remembered him. 

Nero didn’t know what Vergil’s intentions were when he did this, but whatever it was...it was nothing but a cruel, sick joke.

Nero fell to his knees once more and hung his head in despair. He wanted to cry out, but he just couldn’t. Crying wasn’t an option. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. Crying wouldn’t bring his family back. 

Nero found himself collapsing inward, curling up into a depressed little ball, until his legs were hugged tightly against his chest and his face was burrowed in his knees. In the end, he looked just like V did when he had first met Umbra. He was hollow and numb instead of confused, devastated and hurt instead of afraid, but one emotion united them both: the painful, agonizing feeling of being alone.

V’s heart ached with compassion — or, even moreso, in empathy — as he watched the scene unfold. He bent down next to Nero and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and when Nero finally looked up at him, V smiled softly. 

“But even if I don’t remember...that doesn’t mean I can’t still care.” V said soothingly. 

Nero didn’t respond, instead dropping his gaze to the ground and avoiding V’s eyes. He shrugged V’s hand off of his shoulder and turned away so that his back was facing him once more. 

“Look, I know it’s not the same,” V continued, sighing a bit. “And I know how much it hurts. Trust me, I understand how you feel...”

“No, you don’t.” Nero snapped coldly, refusing to look up. “You have no idea what kind of hell I’ve been through. Don’t act like you give a shit. I already know I mean nothing to you.” 

V flinched when Nero said this. Nero’s words were sharp and scathing like the Bringer Claws of his Devil Trigger, tearing right through V’s heart. But still, V forced himself to keep his composure, keeping his tone gentle and his heart open no matter how much it bled. 

“You’re not the only one who’s gone through hell,” V muttered in reply, his voice barely loud enough for Nero to hear. 

“Do have any idea how terrifying it is, Nero? To not remember _anything?”_ V tore his gaze away from Nero, closing his eyes painfully as he recalled all of his tangled, messy emotions from the past two days. “To not know where you came from, who your family is, or if you even have a place to come home to?”

V’s voice was surprisingly quiet, given how much his stupid amnesia made his blood boil. 

“Let me give you a brief synopsis: you’re lost, alone, and afraid. You never know what’s going on, or where you’re going, or how to get there. You have all this demonic power, but no idea how to control any of it. You don’t remember your favorite things, your hobbies, your passions, your hopes, your fears, your dreams... _nothing._ Imagine how terrifying that is for a second, Nero — to feel like a stranger in your own body.”

V felt a slight pang in his chest. He had talked about some of these feelings before, but never on that personal and existential of a level — not even with Umbra. 

“What would you do, then, if you found someone who knew you in the past — who knows you better than you know yourself? Wouldn’t you cling to them with every last bit of strength you have? You may have no idea who they are, or how they know you, or what you mean to them...but wouldn’t you cling to them anyway? The answer is: you would. You would cling to them like your life depends on it and never dare to let go. They would mean absolutely everything to you — because, for all you know, they may be all you have.”

Nero fell incredibly silent. 

“I never thought about it like that,” Nero admitted, guilt washing over him as he said it. Looks like this was just another example of him being selfish…

Slowly, he released his legs and sat himself upright once more, slowly unwinding himself until he was facing V once more. 

“So...you do care about me?” Nero asked quietly. 

“Of course.” V smiled slightly, despite the heaviness of the topic. “I might not remember why...but I know I was important to you somehow, and you must’ve been important to me, too.” 

V placed his hand on Nero’s shoulder once more, looking into his eyes and smiling softly. “The least I can do is honor that bond.”

Nero nodded silently before breaking his gaze from V once more, staring out over the cliffside as the wind tousled his short white hair.

“Thanks,” Nero said finally, although his voice was distant.

An awkward silence fell between the two of them, broken only by the distant cries of the valley creatures in the distance. V racked his brain for something to talk about, but alas, his mind drew a blank. This would be so much easier if he could remember…

Finally, V broke the silence by asking Nero the question he had been wondering since the moment they ran into each other: “So, what happened back there, anyway? You know, in the clearing? You seemed really upset…”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Nero said curtly, quickly standing up. “Just forget you saw anything, okay?” 

“Okay,” V sighed and stood up, as well, though he still continued to worry. 

V placed a comforting hand on Nero’s shoulder again, though his grip was much stronger than before. He didn't want Nero to go running off again, after all. 

“But, you know...if you ever want to talk about it, I’m all ears.” V assured him. “It doesn’t have to be right away. Just know that, whenever you're ready...I’ll be here to listen.”

Finally, Nero sighed and forced his tensed muscles to relax. At least V was keeping true to his word; it felt good to know that he wasn’t all fancy poetry talk. Nero didn’t turn around, but he did manage to give his not-father a subtle nod. “Thanks, V.”

“Anytime,” V nodded in reply. 

A small smile finally found its way onto Nero’s face. He still had no idea what Vergil did to make this happen...but maybe this wasn’t such a cruel, sick joke after all. 

After a few moments, Nero plopped back down on the grass again, his shoulders slumped over tiredly.

“Mind if I sit down?” V asked tentatively. 

“Sure,” Nero slowly leaned back and laid himself down in the tall grass, staring up at the night sky. “I don’t care.”

V nodded and sat himself down cross-legged next to Nero. He motioned for Umbra to come over, as well, since he was still lingering in the overgrown brush that separated the grassy cliffside from the rest of the valley. Umbra was hesitant at first, but eventually he sighed and padded over to his master and sat himself down in the grass, tucking his paws underneath him as he curled his tail around his body.

As soon as Umbra sat down, Nero immediately sat bolt upright and studied the panther curiously. “Wait a minute...is that Shadow?” 

Umbra rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn’t respond. He was too tired to explain the whole familiar situation — not that he cared to explain, anyhow. However, he did glance sideways at V and give him a cunning look, and V thankfully played along.

“Yep, that’s my familiar, all right.” It took nearly every ounce of willpower V had to keep a sober face. Technically, he wasn’t lying…

Thankfully, Nero was oblivious, and he continued to dote on the panther in a half-mocking, half-serious way. “Aw, look. She’s doing the cat loaf!” 

Suddenly, the corner of Nero’s mouth curled upward into a devious, lopsided smirk. Coming from an impulsive devil hunter, that was never a good sign. “I’m gonna pet her.” 

“Have fun dying,” V said dryly. His tone sounded almost sarcastic in nature, but he was definitely being serious.

“Oh, come on. Shadow’s a good girl!” Nero insisted, reaching his hand down to stroke Umbra’s back. “It’s not like she’s ever mauled any—“

In that exact moment, Nero’s hand drifted just a little too close to Umbra, and like Icarus melting away in the sun, so too did the facade. Umbra snapped his jaws suddenly at Nero, snarling in a very un-Shadow-like way for added measure. He purposely avoided Nero’s hand, of course, but it still sent Nero reeling regardless. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Nero exclaimed.

“Personal space.” Umbra smirked in response, his powerful baritone voice throwing Nero into even more of a tizzy. “V might not care about it, but I do. Don’t forget it.” 

Nero’s face was as pale as a ghost’s at this point, and his voice cracked a bit as he attempted to laugh it off. “Uh...y-yeah, of course! Right! Hehe...personal space!” Nero coughed a little as he continued to stammer. “Y-yeah, that makes...perfect sense...heh...“ 

Nero turned to V with a spazzed-out look on his face and whispered hurriedly: “Please tell me you heard Shadow talking in fucking Ryan Reynold’s voice too and I’m not just losing my goddamn mind.”

“You mean Umbra?” V laughed wholeheartedly at Nero, much to his annoyance. “Yeah, that’s normal. I’m honestly amazed he played along as well as he did.” 

“I’m amazed your shit-eating grin didn’t give it away,” Umbra replied snarkily. 

Nero, however, was still confused as ever. “Who the hell is Umbra?!”

Umbra opened his mouth to answer, but Nero quickly added “Don’t you dare say ‘me’ or I’ll neuter your sorry ass” before he had the chance to reply. 

“I told you, he’s my familiar,” V replied simply. “We met in the Northern Woods. I kind of...well…” 

V scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, his pale face tinted rose. 

“I, uh...may have accidentally captured him against his will?” V smiled sheepishly, his face turning an even brighter shade of red. “In my defense, it was a reflex. And I had no idea what I was doing.”

“There’s nothing we can really do about it, though,” Umbra shrugged, still a bit sour about the whole ordeal but refusing to dwell on it. “So I’m stuck being this dumbass’s chauffeur.”

Nero bit back the urge to snort. He was so used to seeing V being poised and in control; the fact that he managed to make this big of a blunder was honestly hilarious. 

“Yeah, I may have screwed up on that one...” V admitted finally, running his fingers through his hair. 

Nero laughed for the first time in what felt like forever — even though, in reality, it had only been two days. He knew it wasn’t a cure-all by any means, but after the mental breakdown he had earlier that night, any distraction helped.

Nevertheless, Nero was still extremely curious about V’s sudden resurgence, and he was itching to ask him questions. He made sure to keep them general, though, before he accidentally gave his not-father another panic attack. 

“So, now that we’ve established the whole Umbra thing...” Nero began casually, although his awkwardness about the whole situation was still plain as day. “You said you had amnesia, right? Do you know what happened? How long have you had it?” 

“Two days, I think?” V guessed. “That’s when I woke up, anyhow. No idea what happened though.” 

“Have you remembered anything since then?” Nero asked. He was genuinely curious, at this point. “I mean, you remembered who Shadow was, and you know about familiars. What else have you figured out…?” 

“My name,” V replied lightly, ignoring the awkward tension in the air for Nero’s sake. “Seriously though, I haven’t figured out much. The biggest clue I have right now is that I was in Red Grave during the Qliphoth incident...but I don’t remember any of the details. All I remember is standing in front of the tree and looking up at the Demon King...”

V‘s green eyes lit up suddenly, and he eagerly turned to face Nero. “You said something about the Qliphoth earlier, right? Do you know anything about what happened? Maybe it could help me remember!”

Nero seemed to tense up at the question, and V’s smile faded. “Let me guess: too much to get into at the moment?” 

“You got it,” Nero replied, finger-gunning in V’s direction with little change in his pained expression. 

V quickly dropped the subject and continued the previous conversation. “Let’s see, what else…? Oh, yeah!” 

He reached into his coat pocket and fished out his spellbook — Vergil’s poetry book, in actuality — and held it up for Nero to see. “I also found this earlier today. Apparently it used to belong to me.”

Every ounce of color drained from Nero’s face at the sight of the book. _/That book...but how did he…?!/_

V looked up at Nero’s startlingly pale face and frowned a bit. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Nero forced a smile onto his face. “Don’t worry, i-it’s nothing.”

V gave Nero a worried look, but he eventually shrugged it off and stowed away his book. “But yeah, that’s pretty much all I’ve figured out so far. That’s why Umbra and I are traveling to Red Grave City — to look for answers.” 

V looked back at the overgrown valley behind him and contemplated for a moment. He was probably anxious to leave as soon as possible, Nero observed flatly, as much as it hurt him to realize it. After all, if V was still anything like Vergil, he wouldn’t care too much about sticking around for his son…

But, much to Nero’s surprise, V had a completely different idea in mind. He turned back around and faced Nero once more, his green eyes glistening with excitement. 

“I know! You should come with us!” V exclaimed. 

“Wait, what?!” Nero was completely taken aback. “Why?” 

“Why not?” V insisted. “You said yourself that we used to know each other. Not only would traveling together help us reconnect, but it could also help me recover my memory. And since you were there when I was at the Qliphoth, and we’re heading to Red Grave City...it’s perfect!”

Nero looked away reluctantly. “I dunno, V. You saw me in that clearing. I don’t think it’s safe to have me around…”

Umbra merely rolled his eyes in response. “Nero, V is the same idiot that went on a crime spree in Sapere City. Do you really think he cares about safety?”

“Uhhh…” Nero gave V a worried look. “What?” 

“Don’t worry about that,” V replied just a little too quickly. “The point is, we found each other again for a reason, so we should take advantage of it! Come on, Nero, please?” 

V gave Nero the same pleading, puppy-dog-eyed look he gave Umbra at the bookstore, and Nero cursed under his breath. Dammit, how could he possibly say no to that? 

“All right, fine. I’ll join you.” Nero agreed finally, although his mind was still plagued with worry. Nero hoped to whatever god there is that he didn’t end up hurting them, too...

“Great!” V grinned in reply. “It’s getting pretty late, though, so we should probably stop here and set up camp for the night. We’ll start up again in the morning.”

“Works for me,” Umbra shrugged. 

Nero knew it was a moo point to try and fall asleep at this point, especially after all that’s happened in the last few hours still plaguing his brain, but he knew better than to object. Nevertheless, Nero glanced around the relatively barren cliffside and frowned.

“Do you even have anything to set up camp with?” Nero asked, raising a judging eyebrow. 

“Like I said earlier, V is an idiot.” Umbra rolled his eyes. “Do you really think he’d plan ahead that far?” 

Nero sighed and unsheathed Red Queen before trekking off into the woods. “Guess we’ll need firewood then. I’ll be right back.” 

V worriedly called out after Nero. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to—?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Nero replied adamantly over his shoulder. “Just keep an eye on the campsite.” 

Something told V that he shouldn’t believe him, but still he complied and sat himself down in the grass. Umbra perched himself next to his master and began to groom himself, not giving Nero or his attitude much mind.

“You know,” Umbra commented at one point, raising an eyebrow at V in an aloof half-interest. “You two look pretty similar — you and Nero, I mean. Are you sure you’re not related?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” V shoved his familiar playfully. “The only thing we have in common is our hair.”

“White hair is still a pretty rare thing to have, you know,” Umbra reminded him. “Especially for someone so young.” 

“I just figured it was a devil hunter thing,” V shrugged. 

“It’s not a devil hunter thing, you moron. It’s a DEMON thing.” Umbra rolled his eyes. “Most devil hunters don’t have demonic heritage like you and Nero do. You two are an exception, not the rule.”

V didn’t respond.

“Look, all I’m saying is...this kid might be more important than you realize.” Umbra gave V a serious look. “Just keep an eye on him, all right? You need him.”

V looked out into the overgrown brush, a contemplative look on his face. In between the grunts and snarls of wild animals in the distance, V could’ve sworn he heard those painful, feral cries of Nero crying in his DT, echoing through the trees...hopefully it was just his imagination.

“No,” V told Umbra. “He needs me.”

* * *

After a few minutes, Nero finally emerged from the wilderness with firewood in hand. While he was gone, V had assembled a makeshift fire pit surrounded by three logs, which made Nero’s job at least somewhat easier. However, given that they had no sleeping bags or tents, it was still a sad excuse for a campsite. 

“All right, I’m back,” Nero announced to V and Umbra, plopping the firewood down into the fire pit before retiring onto the nearest log. He really was tired, though he refused to admit it. 

Umbra took one look at the pile of logs before giving Nero a cynical look. “Great. You found wood. Now all we need is the stuff that actually makes the fire.”

“I don’t see you helping with anything, smartass!” Nero glared at Umbra. 

“Uh? Feline? Paws? Lack of opposable thumbs?” Umbra rolled his eyes, waving a paw tauntingly at Nero to emphasize. 

“You’re literally a shapeshifter,” Nero countered. “That excuse is bullshit and you know it.”

V decided to step in before the hot-headed Devil Hunter and the bullheaded Shadow demon butted heads any further. “What else do we need to start a fire?” 

“Tinder,” Umbra pouted slightly. Right when the argument was getting fun… “And something that creates a spark, preferably.” 

Nero groaned and stood up. “Fine, I’ll be right back…”

“Not so fast,” V held up a hand and stopped Nero in his tracks. 

Smirking, V pulled out his spellbook and flipped to a certain page. He pointed his staff at the pile of logs and muttered those strange, ancient words under his breath. 

_Fwoosh!_

In a flash, flames erupted from the tip of his cane and ignited the campfire. 

Nero and Umbra were both taken aback: Nero because he didn’t realize V’s magic worked like that, and Umbra because V actually used it for something legal for once. 

“Well, that makes my job easier.” Nero laughed and sat back down on the log. “I’ve seen you cast spells during our missions and stuff, but I didn’t think you could use it for stuff like this.” 

“Apparently I can,” V stowed away his book and staff and bashfully ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve mostly been using practical stuff during our journey, though, so I guess I just never noticed.”

It was still weird for V to imagine himself as a Devil Hunter, even though all of the evidence about his past seemed to point in that direction. Only the strongest of humans and those with demonic heritage could handle a job like that. V knew he had demon blood in his veins — the collection of ancient demonic spells sort of gave that away — but it still seemed so surreal. Was he really that powerful? 

V opened the spellbook again and flipped through the pages in the back, smiling as he skimmed through the hundreds of spells. At least he had his old notes to help him. 

“I’m so glad I found this,” V grinned, speaking his thoughts out loud. “I had no idea what I was capable of — hell, I didn’t even know what I was doing half the time. But the more I read these spells in the back, the more it all starts coming back to me. I finally feel like I have some form of control.” 

V was so absorbed in his reading and rambling, he didn’t even notice Nero’s face blanching at the sight of the book.

“I-i thought it only had William Blake poems,” Nero replied warily. 

V didn’t seem to notice Nero’s discomfort, however, and continued without missing a beat. “Originally, yes. Apparently, though, I added these new pages to the back of the book before I lost my memory. I haven’t really figured out why yet…” 

V skimmed through the dates curiously as he contemplated. “Looks like the earliest note was written on May — 3rd? Yeah, that’s definitely a three — May 3rd. That’s where all the basic spells are, the absolute essentials. Then it looks like I tried to organize it by combat spells first, followed by practical-use ones, and lastly with the more advanced stuff…”

”Wow. A table of contents. So amazing.” Umbra yawned.

“Hang on, I’m going somewhere with this,” V replied earnestly. “The weird thing is, after May 16th, the rest of the entries are a jumbled mess — like I just started jotting down whatever symbols I could find, or something. I don’t get it.”

Nero’s eye twitched slightly. That was the day that Dante called him dead weight...the same day Dante lost against Urizen...the day HE lost against Urizen. 

“Nero, what do you think?” V’s voice awakened Nero from his thoughts. “Do you have any idea what might’ve happened?” 

“Huh? What?” Nero shook his head as if to clear it. “Oh! Uh...no. No, not really.”

V raised a skeptical eyebrow at Nero for a moment, but he eventually shrugged it off and continued. 

“But what’s even weirder is that it ends abruptly at June 15th,” V scratched his chin thoughtfully. 

“June 15th?” Nero’s face paled even more. He didn’t even want to think about all the shit that went down that day.

“Yeah,” V nodded, too absorbed in his brainstorming to pay Nero’s discomfort much mind. “The handwriting is almost illegible at this point, but I think I was trying to make a translation guide for all the symbols — you know, from ancient demonic runes to the Latin alphabet. I highly doubt I was anticipating — well, whatever happened that made me lose my memory — so I can’t help but wonder: what was I planning to do with this?”

But Nero, unfortunately, knew the truth. V knew in advance what sacrifice he had to make that day; why else would he have written down everything he knew beforehand, and why else would it have gotten more and more rushed as the deadline drew closer? However, in the back of his mind, Nero also couldn’t help but wonder: what _was_ V planning to do with this? Was he worried that Vergil would split himself again, and he wanted to keep a record of his combat knowledge in case he fought Urizen a second time? Did he leave it as some sort of memento for Nero to remember him by? Or did he intend for Nero to actually open the book and learn these spells for himself, instead of just throwing it onto his bedside drawer and letting it gather dust? No matter the reason, Nero still felt incredibly guilty. 

“Nero, do you have any—“

“No.” Nero answered a little too quickly, this time, staring at the flames of the campfire and avoiding V’s eyes. “I don’t know what happened.” 

V was getting skeptical, at this point. V might not have known much, but he DID know that the Qliphoth battle took place on June 15th, and he knew full well that Nero was there to witness whatever had happened to him. V knew Nero had his reasons for being reserved, but it still irked the young amnesiac. He was literally sitting five feet away from his next Rosetta Stone; for all he knew, Nero might have the answers to all of V’s questions about his past. Why was Nero so adamant on keeping this knowledge to himself? 

Finally, V decided to test him. There was no way Nero would weasel his way out of this one without being exposed. 

“But the weirdest thing of all,” V began, flipping back to the beginning of the book. “Is that the final entry was over a month ago...but when I found this at the bookstore, Rose told me that it was donated by an anonymous source a week ago.” 

V briefly glanced up at Nero to see his reaction. Nero was still staring at the roaring campfire, though his eye seemed to twitch in sync with each snap and crackle of the firewood. 

V knew he was entering dangerous territory with this next one, but he continued to press Nero, desperate for answers. “What happened to the book after June 15th? Was it stolen, or did I give it to someone? And who was the anonymous source, if it couldn’t have been myself? Was it a thief, a stranger...or was it someone closer?”

“I told you, I don’t know.” Nero spoke behind gritted teeth, in a vain attempt to keep from raising his voice at V. 

In all honesty, Nero and V were both becoming equally frustrated, and that frustration only continued to build as their deadlock persisted. Only Umbra was completely unperturbed; in fact, he almost wished he had brought popcorn.

“Oh, I think you do.” V’s voice took on a startling dark tone, contrasting greatly from his otherwise kind and friendly demeanor. 

Nero had finally caught the bait, trapping himself in the net of his own lies, and it was time for V to reel it in. Keeping his gaze firmly locked on Nero, he turned the book around and gestured to the name on the inside front cover.

“This book originally belonged to Vergil Sparda. Because of my signature at the bottom of each note, we know that I owned this book until June 15th. And you were with me during the battle on June 15th, the same date my notes mysteriously stopped. I remember you mentioning Vergil when we first met, so you obviously know him somehow, and you obviously have something to do with the book. Furthermore, you also said that Vergil is in Hell, so he couldn’t be the anonymous donor. Therefore, the only person who could have any idea what happened to the book in the last month is...you.”

V snapped the book closed and crossed his arms, giving Nero an expectant look. “So tell me, Nero: do you have any idea what happened?” 

Umbra always forgot how intense V could truly get, and honestly, it kind of terrified him. Most of the time, he was just a kind, compassionate, and hopelessly optimistic kid. But once he becomes motivated to accomplish something, he will do whatever it takes to achieve that goal...and woe be to anyone who tries to stand in the way of that goal.

Whatever this kid was in the past, he must’ve been one of the most terrifying enemies a mortal could have...either that, or he had siblings, and he had naturally mastered the art of blackmail. Both scenarios were equally terrifying. 

Nero could feel his inner storm flaring up inside of him. In his right mind, he would have been worried — terrified, even — that his anger would consume him and cause him to lash out once more, putting both V and Umbra in danger; after all, being a danger to those he cared about was why he fled to the Valley of the Skull in the first place. But the fire was already consuming him; he had become so distraught that he no longer cared. 

“It’s none of your business, all right?!” Nero snapped dangerously at V. “What is this? ‘Reveal All of My Secrets Day’?! You literally said you wouldn’t force me to talk about personal shit like this until I was ready. What happened to that, huh? Because I’m sure as hell NOT ready. Does this sound ready to you?!”

Normally, V would’ve stopped to consider this, but anger had begun to blind his judgement, as well. He raised his voice scathingly at Nero and practically shouted: “This IS my business, Nero! Did you not listen to anything I told you earlier about how lost I’ve been? How long I’ve been stumbling blindly in the dark? Or were you only worried about yourself?” 

“No, I wasn’t!” Nero retorted, his frustration building. _/Why didn’t anyone understand?/_

“Then why are you keeping secrets about my own past from me?!” V fired back in reply. “I’m sick of not knowing anything, Nero! All I want is answers about who I am, where I’ve come from, and what my purpose is. But the moment I finally found someone who has all the answers, THIS is how they respond? I’ve been walking on eggshells since the _moment we met_ to keep you from getting angry, but THIS is what I get in return?!” 

“You’re not listening!” Nero gripped his head in frustration. _/Why did no one ever listen?/_

“You haven’t said anything! That’s the whole problem!” What little patience V had left was quickly growing thin. “What do I have to say to get you to open up, Nero? What do I have to do to understand? TELL ME. Because I’m not going to waste any more time and energy trying to help someone who’s nothing but dead weight!”

Those last two words were the final push Nero needed, and just like that, he snapped. He didn’t go into full-on Devil Trigger, thank goodness, but his eyes turned a dangerous shade of poison yellow, and they only grew darker as he quickly began to lose control. 

“You want me to open up? Fine! Vergil’s my father! He gave me the book! I donated it because I couldn’t stand to look at the damn thing anymore! And you want to know why? Because all if did was remind me of my father! My deadbeat, deadweight, bastard excuse of a FATHER!”

Nero’s eyes were a bright orange, now, and his voice was slowly becoming distorted, as if his demonic energy were taking on a life of its own. “He cut off my arm just for a damn katana, he abandoned me _forever_ just to go play with his damn brother in Hell, and he gave me that stupid fucking book and called it a damn apology!” 

Nero’s eyes were now a dark blood orange, and his voice continued to distort into something that definitely wasn’t human. “You want to know why I’m like this?! Vergil would NEVER have come back if we had just stayed with Dante and finished off Urizen. If you hadn’t fled like a goddamn coward and let yourself fall apart, NONE of this would’ve happened! But now my life is RUINED, my friends and family are GONE, I’m turning into my FATHER…!” 

Nero’s eyes continued to darken, and by the time he finally had the nerve to say it in his DT voice, his irises were a terrifying blood red: “AND THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Any anger or malice V had before was wiped away in an instant. In its place rushed several emotions: terror, heartbreak, guilt, and regret...lots and lots of regret. But most of all, he felt the one thing that truly separated him from the Vergil Nero knew and hated: compassion. 

Slowly, V approached Nero, who was breathing heavily and seething with anger as his rogue demon blood fought to take control. V didn’t even flinch when Nero looked at him with his piercing red eyes — the eyes of a feral demon who has lost all semblance of control. V didn’t falter when Nero shifted into an attack stance that, even when his DT was incomplete and unstable, was instinctively aiming to kill. 

V wasn’t going to cower in fear. No, not anymore. 

Finally, mere milliseconds before Nero were to pounce and attack, V leapt forward, and did what should’ve been done to tame this beast a long, long time ago...

He hugged him. 

Nero froze suddenly as V wrapped his arms tightly around him, bringing him in close like his life depended on it and never daring to let go. 

No one in his biological family had ever hugged Nero before, not even Vergil before he left. 

Slowly, slowly, the curtain of red began to lift from Nero’s eyes, fading into orange, then yellow, and finally back to blue. As the demonic energy finally calmed itself and receded to the darkest depths of his soul, Nero slowly began to realize what V had done for him, and his eyes began to turn red again — but this time, instead of demonic energy, it was because they were filled with tears. 

Finally, Nero fully embraced the hug and buried his reddening face into the fabric of V’s coat, and finally — _finally_ — he let himself cry. So this is what he needed. This is what he has been missing for all of his life. All he ever really wanted was a family: a family who loved him unconditionally, a family who would never abandon him, a family that was truly a family. And now he finally found it. 

It was at least ten minutes before Nero finally retracted from the hug, stubbornly wiping his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, V,” Nero’s voice was barely a whisper. “It’s not your fault...it was never your fault...it was mine. I should never have lashed out like that...I could’ve gotten you killed and I... _I’m so sorry…”_

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I understand,” V assured him. “You’ve been bottling up these emotions for a long time, and like a dam blocking a river, one can only hold back so much before it bursts.” 

Nero chuckled half-heartedly, dampened mostly by a rather unfortunately-timed sniffle. “Let me guess, that’s a William Blake quote?”

“No,” V smiled softly. “It’s a V quote.” 

Nero gave V a wobbly smile and hugged him again, thanking him profusely for coming in his hour of need.

Nero still had no idea why Vergil brought V back, but right now, he didn’t care. Vergil didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that V was here, he was alive, and he was the first family member he ever had who truly felt like family. 

And that’s all Nero could have ever asked for.


	9. Lost and Found

After awhile, the devil hunters began to settle down for the night, extinguishing the campfire and lying down in the grass to go to sleep. V, who had been traveling for almost 36 hours now with barely a wink of sleep in between, was the first to fall asleep; as soon as his head touched the ground, he was out like a light. Nero and Umbra, who were still by the campfire logs, shared a quiet little chuckle when they saw V sleeping so soundly, slightly envious that he made it look so easy. 

“He really is just a sweet little kid,” Umbra remarked, whispering to Nero so as to not wake V up. “It’s...strange, really. He has such a big heart, even towards people he hardly knows…”

“Yeah,” Nero looked down at the ground contemplatively. 

“You said you used to know him, right?” Umbra raised a curious brow. “Has he always been...you know...like this?” 

Nero turned his gaze towards V in the distance, sleeping peacefully about 20 feet away from them. “Now that I think about it...no, he hasn’t. He was a lot more somber when I met him back in May — a helluva lot more secretive, too. Not to mention that everything that came out of his mouth made my brain hurt.” 

Nero chuckled slightly, in spite of himself. “But yeah, I guess he is different now. He’s more...happy, I think. Down to earth.” 

“He’s also incredibly optimistic for someone his age,” Umbra commented. “Don’t you think? I mean, he might only remember the last two days, but he’s basically the same age as you, from what I can gander. And yet he’s still so innocent and trusting...it’s almost like he really is just two days old.”

“Must be the amnesia, I guess,” Nero trailed off a bit, unsure of what to think. 

Umbra shrugged lightly. “Perhaps. Though something keeps bugging me in the back of my mind...”

“Really?” Nero asked curiously. “What is it?” 

Umbra’s tail flicked uncomfortably at the question, and he dropped his gaze to avoid Nero’s eyes. He really didn’t want to divulge his complicated past, especially to a stranger...but Umbra knew it was the only way to get this off of his chest. So, with a sigh, Umbra began to explain his tangled-up thoughts regarding his master, starting with his backstory: 

“Well, it’s a long story, but it all started off over 30 years ago. If you know a thing or two about demonology, you’d know that Shadows were sealed away in Hell for thousands of years, until...certain events...forced us to work as servants under Mundus.” Umbra shuddered a bit as he recalled it. “I don’t want to get too into it, but...I was one of them. When Mundus planned a coup to kill some rival of his in the Human World, I seized the opportunity and joined the effort, and I managed to escape.” 

Umbra shook his head. “But that’s beside the point. The point I’m getting at is...I remember seeing a kid who looked an awful lot like V during my first few days of freedom. He had that same white hair, and he clung to his katana like V does his cane…”

Nero’s face paled slightly when he heard this. “You met Vergil?” 

“He was hardly 8 years old at the time...but yes. I did.” Umbra’s ears flattened against the back of his head. “Had I known then what kind of hell he’d raise in both of our worlds, I wouldn’t have spared him like I did. But the kid was so traumatized...his eyes were hardened like he had seen the Devil, himself, and I...I just couldn’t kill him.” 

Umbra glanced back at V for but a moment before locking his eyes with Nero. There was a curious gleam in his blood red eyes, as if he knew something that Nero didn’t. “But, in retrospect, it’s a good thing I didn’t. As disgraceful as Vergil is to the Sparda name...at least his kids turned out all right.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. Hold up.” Nero held up his hands to emphasize. “Kids? Plural? As in, more than one kid?” 

Nero’s heart almost doubled in pace at the thought. Umbra couldn’t possibly be implying that Nero had a long-lost sibling...could he? 

“Yeah,” Umbra shrugged, not thinking much of it. “I figured you and V were probably brothers. Maybe even twins, given how close in age you both are — fraternal, obviously.” 

Nero fought to keep his laughter as quiet as possible, though a rather loud and obnoxious snort did manage to escape. “God, you had me worried for a second there. Trust me, we’re _definitely_ not brothers. You don’t need to worry about that one.”

“I...suppose...” Umbra shook his head and sighed. That wasn’t quite what he meant, but whatever. “Just keep an eye out for him, okay? Brother or not...he’s still just a kid.” 

Umbra got up and sulked off towards the shrubbery separating the forest from the cliffside, keeping himself within their plane of vision but still keeping his distance as he nestled down in the brush to sleep. He wasn’t quite used to all this...human interaction. After spending all those years in blissful solitude, freed from the shackles of Mundus’ control, it felt strange to suddenly be accompanied at all times. It exhausted him, really.

Finally, Nero got up and settled himself down in the grass, as well, situating himself about 5 feet away from V. Nero turned himself over onto his side and closed his eyes, though he knew it was all in vain; if he couldn’t sleep in the comfort of his own futon, he highly doubted he would get any shut-eye here. Eventually, however, even Nero began to doze off after awhile, the mental and emotional exhaustion from everything that happened that evening silencing his restless mind. 

Thus, the trio slept somewhat soundly for the next couple hours. As the night went on, however, the temperature continued to drop, and the cold mountain air began to sweep across the campsite. Nero, clad in his sweat-jacket, hardly felt it, but the same could not be said for the others. 

Soon enough, V began to shiver slightly in his sleep, his bare arms lined with goosebumps. Nero flipped over to his right side in his sleep, and for a brief moment, his eyes groggily opened halfway and looked at his colleague. When Nero noticed V’s teeth clattering from the cold, however, he wiped the rheum from his eyes and slowly sat himself up, studying V curiously. He did look pretty cold, Nero observed, though he slept surprisingly well despite it. Still, given how skinny V was, he was bound to be freezing, and the fact that his sleeveless coat left his arms and torso exposed probably didn't help matters. 

Finally, Nero sighed and took off his heavy jacket, revealing his tattered red shirt underneath. Gently he draped the jacket over V’s shoulders, careful to keep his movements as quiet as possible, so as to not wake him up. As soon as he laid down the jacket, V’s shivering began to at ease, and Nero smiled a bit. V needed it more than he did, anyway.

However, noticing the sudden weight pulling on his shoulders, V’s eyes slowly fluttered open. Blearily he lifted his head a bit and studied the jacket curiously for a moment, before shifting his puzzled gaze to Nero. 

“You were shivering,” Nero explained quietly, awkwardly breaking eye contact. “I figured it would help.”

V looked back down at the jacket and frowned a bit. He felt guilty for taking it, honestly, especially since he had never seen Nero without it. Surely he needed this as much as V did, right? 

“We can share it, if you want,” V offered, flipping the jacket horizontally so that it would stretch out over the two of them. “I don’t want you to be cold, either.” 

Nero’s face turned scarlet at the offer. The thought of sleeping that close to his father(?) was beyond awkward to him, especially when said father(?) didn’t even realize they were related. To say it was embarrassing was honestly an understatement, at this point. 

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” Nero replied bashfully, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and avoiding V’s eyes. “I’ll be fine without it.” 

But V simply rolled his eyes at Nero. 

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal. Aren’t you a little old to be worried about catching cooties?” V gave Nero a playful smirk before switching to a more sober tone. “Seriously, though, I’d rather awkwardly share a sweat-jacket as a blanket and be warm than freeze to death on my own.” 

V chuckled a little. “Besides, I can already see goosebumps on your arms.”

“All right, fine, you win.” Nero held up his arms as if to surrender and sat himself down next to V, leaning back until his head rested on the grass once more. “You better not hog it, though.”

“No promises,” V replied cheekily before stretching the jacket out to cover them both. 

Nero flipped onto his side once more, while V remained on his back and closed his eyes, and eventually the two devil hunters fell back asleep. The makeshift blanket wasn’t much, but it helped, and they both slept much more soundly thereafter. 

Meanwhile, Umbra had been watching the whole scene unfold from afar, and he contemplated for a moment. He still didn’t know what to make of V by-and-large, nor his relation to Vergil and Nero. What Umbra did know, however, was that Nero and V were strongly connected — not quite as strong as the Sons of Sparda before them, but still strong nonetheless. They needed each other, just like Dante and Vergil did during all those years apart.

In the back of his mind, Umbra couldn’t help but wonder: if it were Dante who had encountered Vergil that day instead of himself, and they had found each other in their hour of need like V had found Nero...how might things be different? Would there be no Qliphoth? Would Nelo Angelo have ever existed? What about the destruction of Mallet Island, or the reopening of Temen-ni-Gru? Perhaps there might even be two Legendary Devil Hunters instead of one — Dante _and_ Vergil, Sons of Sparda. It was mind-boggling to think about. 

A cold gust of wind awakened Umbra from his thoughts suddenly, and he bristled his fur in response. His eyes lingered on Nero and V for a moment, staring longingly at the warm sweat-jacket they shared. As much as Umbra hated to admit it, he was getting rather chilly, himself…

Finally, Umbra swallowed his pride and padded over to his master, curling up beside him and using his body heat for warmth. Maybe human interaction wasn’t so bad, after all. Umbra found himself purring slightly, much to his embarrassment, as he slowly but surely relaxed. Finally, after a few minutes, the last member of the trio drifted off to sleep. 

Alone, they were nothing special: just a clueless amnesiac with no sense of direction, a moody devil hunter with family issues, and a panther demon that was far too stubborn for his own good. But together, they were more than that — so, so much more. 

Together, they were a family. 

And together, they found rest. 

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the rest stop, Nico was fast asleep in her futon bed. Unlike Nero and V, however, her sleep was anything but sound. 

Just as she had suspected, her recurring nightmare came back with a vengeance, molded by the events of the last 24 hours. But nothing could have prepared Nico for tonight’s rendition of her darkest fear incarnate, which had taken on a terrifying new twist. If Nero could’ve seen himself in Nico’s dreams right now, even he would’ve been horrified at the monster he had become. 

_As usual, the dream began in the Valley of the Skull. Nico found herself once again standing amidst the overgrown trees and shrubs, the canopy so thick above her head that not even the sun could peek through. The grunts and snarls of long-forgotten animals sounded behind the bushes, just like they did every night._

_However, something felt...different…about the valley tonight. Nico didn’t know what, exactly. Her only tipoff was an odd sense of foreboding hanging in the air around her, surrounding the haunting scene like an invisible fog. That alone was enough to send a nervous chill down Nico’s spine._

_Suddenly, as she took a tentative step forward, Nico heard the all-too-familiar crunching of bones underneath her feet._

_/Dammit, already?/ Nico gulped._

_She already knew what she would find: the rotting skeleton of a suicide victim who had stabbed himself with his own sword. Slowly, Nico looked down at the leg bone under her boot, and she flinched when her suspicions were confirmed. Against her better judgement, her eyes reluctantly traced up the leg towards the rest of the body, just like they always did._

_But, much to Nico’s horror, the already unsettling nightmare took a startling turn._

_In front of her sat a perfectly intact skeleton, but this time, Nico recognized the corpse all too well. Nico’s eyes flitted nervously across the body, from the blue sweat-jacket hanging over the carcass’s shoulders to the necklace dangling loosely around its bony neck, and all at once, her eyes widened._

_/No.../ Nico gasped. /This can’t be Nero…!/_

_Then Nico saw the sword — Red Queen — stabbed through the skeleton’s ribcage, and the realization nearly brought Nico to her knees._

_It was too late...she was already too late…_

_As if the sight of her best friend’s corpse wasn’t traumatizing enough, more and more skeletons began to appear around Nico, and every single one looked exactly like Nero. One had tied a paper bag around his neck, suffocating himself. Another had hung himself from a tall tree branch. Yet another had poisoned himself, the empty bottle of cyanide now lying broken beside him. Dozens more had killed themselves in equally disturbing ways. The scene was terrifying enough when Nico didn’t recognize the corpses, but seeing Nero’s face in all of them was enough to shake her down to the very core._

_Suddenly, Nico could hear Nero’s voice echoing through the valley, taunting her: “Nico…”_

_“Nero?” Nico’s eyes darted across the valley in panic, searching for his living face among the sea of dead look-alikes. “Nero, where are you?! Answer me!”_

_“Nico...I’m sorry…” Nero’s voice sounded from behind her, repeating the same haunting words he always did._

_Nico turned around and desperately sprinted towards Nero’s voice, but she tripped under a tree root and fell flat on her face. Nico grimaced as she scrambled to her feet. /Dammit, always that same root.../_

_“Nero, answer me!” Nico cried out pleadingly. “Please!!”_

_But Nero’s voice continued to taunt her, growing louder in her mind but never seeming to get any closer: “I can’t protect you...can’t protect anyone…I’m a failure...”_

_“Nero, you’re NOT a failure!” Frustration began to mix in with Nico‘s desperate cries. “You know damn well this ain’t the answer! Please, just listen to me!”_

_The all-too-familiar sea of bones began to rise up around Nico, snagging in her frizzy black hair, rattling eerily as she fought to shove them aside, crunching under her feet. Higher, higher the sea of skeletons rose, until she practically had to swim through them to move forward. But, like so many other things in this nightmare, this ocean of skeletons was even more horrifying than before._

_Just like the ones she had encountered earlier, these skeletons bore a startling resemblance to her best friend. Perhaps even more haunting, however, was that the Nero skeletons seemed to have taken on a life of their own. Their arms grabbed at Nico and forcefully began to drag her down, as if they were trying to drown her. Nevertheless, Nico persisted, struggling to press onward even when the deathly ocean rose well above her torso._

_“I’m not strong enough…” Nero’s voice continued, and the skeletons began to tremble, as if shaken by an earthquake. “I can’t do this anymore...I’m...not strong enough…”_

_The sea of dead look-alikes had risen up to Nico’s neck, at this point. It was all Nico could do to keep her head afloat, let alone move forward. She knew Nero was standing in the grassy moor, just like he always was, but she would never get there in time._

_“NERO!” Nico screamed, her tears filled with heartbreak and frustration. “FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME?!”_

_The nightmare drifted from its normal plot one last time, and this divergence was the most terrifying of all. Rising from the sea of skeletons was none other than the living Nero — the Nero whom Nico was trying so desperately to find. But, compared to the hot-tempered devil hunter Nico knew and loved, this Nero was almost unrecognizable._

_First of all, Nero manifested in his Devil Trigger form, and he stood before Nico as the quarter-demon he truly was. That deadly shade of blood red had fallen over his DT eyes, as well, shutting off his conscience and impairing his sense of control. What shocked Nico the most, however, was that Nero stood with Yamato in hand: the same katana that inhabited his Devil Bringer, the same katana wielded by his father...the very weapon that cost Nero his arm._

_Nero hovered over the sea of skeletons with his spectral wings and glared down at Nico, every last drop of kindness and lightheartedness vanished from his steely face. He looked so intense, so relentless, so...evil...that he really did look like the disgraced Son of Sparda. It terrified Nico, honestly; was Nero really starting to turn into Vergil?_

_“I don’t need you.” Nero’s voice was unnaturally cold, contrasting greatly from his usually fervid tone. “If I’m not strong enough on my own, then I’m not worthy to be called a Descendant of Sparda. I need to get stronger...I need more power…”_

_“Nero, stop it!” Nico cried. “Don’t you get it? That’s exactly what Vergil said befo—“_

_A skeletal hand rose up and covered Nico’s mouth before she could finish her sentence. The undead look-alikes continued to drag her downward, slowly submerging her face in the sea of death surrounding her. Nero turned his back to Nico uncaringly, devoid of all of the emotions that once made him human._

_“Nero!” Nico tried to scream, though the skeletal hand muffled her words slightly. Her face was just barely sticking out, at this point, and she looked up at Nero with desperate and pleading eyes. “Please! You’re my best friend, you’re like a brother to me! Please...don’t do this!”_

_Nero merely laughed in response — a sinister laugh so dark and twisted that even the Devil would’ve cowered in fear. “Oh, Nico...since when have I ever cared about family?”_

_“After all…”_

_Nero turned around, his DT features melting away and morphing into that of a human’s. However, instead of his normal appearance, he now stood as the spitting image of his father: his hair slicked back, his sweat-jacket transformed into Vergil’s signature coat, and his blue eyes hardened from decades of misery and pain._

_“...Just look at my father.”_

_Tears streamed down Nico’s face as her head fell under, engulfed in the sea of skeletons. The last thing she heard was a gunshot from Blue Rose — the only remnant of her old nightmares left — before her vision went black._

“GAAH!” 

Nico sat bolt upright in her futon suddenly, her entire body drenched in a cold sweat. Her heart pounded in her chest so rapidly, she could’ve sworn it would break out of her ribcage and spill itself onto her blanket. Her breathing was heavy and labored, as if she had just run a marathon. 

Never, not once in her entire life, had a nightmare scared her that much. Thank God it was nothing but a bad dream.

“Nero...” Nico breathed, trying and failing to regain her composure, as she struggled to shake the mental image of Nero becoming Vergil from her mind. “Nero, what time is it?” 

When her eyes glanced over at Nero’s empty futon, however, and she noticed the black blanket thrown violently to the side, Nico’s face blanched. 

“Dammit, Nero...” Nico cursed bitterly as she threw on her leather jacket over her pajamas and hastily slipped on her boots. “Every damn night…” 

Nico hurriedly ran to the front of the van and checked the weapons cabinet, but she already knew that Red Queen and Blue Rose wouldn’t be there. Cursing under her breath, Nico turned around and scurried to the front door. She was seconds away from opening it and sprinting southward, prepared to search for Nero in that same small patch of wilderness she found him yesterday. However, right before her hands reached the door handle, Nico caught sight of something yellow in the corner of her eye, and all at once, she paused.

Slowly, fearfully, Nico turned around and made her way to the jukebox, her heart leaping into her throat. She had a bad feeling about what she was about to find…

Sure enough, she was right: stuck against the glass were two sticky notes, and the smeared, sloppy handwriting was unmistakably Nero’s. Nico tentatively picked up the notes and read them in fearful silence, refusing to let her mind trail back to her biggest fear. 

_“Dear Nico,”_ The note read. _“I’m sorry you had to put up with_ ~~ _me_~~ _my bullshit these past few weeks. I haven’t been thinking straight ever since the Qliphoth, and I should’ve_ ~~ _done this_~~ ~~_done something_~~ _said something sooner. I thought I was strong enough_ ~~ _to handle this,_~~ ~~_to hide th—_~~ ~~_on my own_~~ _but I’m not. I’m supposed to be protecting this city...but I can’t protect anyone like this.”_

Nico’s hands began to tremble fearfully. This sounded just like Nero in her nightmare.

_“If I stay, I’ll only wind up getting_ ~~_you_~~ _everyone hurt._ _~~Everyone would be better off~~ _ _It’d be better for everyone if I just left.”_

Red flags seemed to pop up at every other word as Nico’s mind assumed the worst. No...he couldn’t be that upset, could he? But with the valley just north of them, Nico couldn’t help but worry…

Nico’s lip began to quiver as she picked up the second note and began to read:

_“The point is...I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll come back. I just need some time to figure things out for myself. Don’t worry about me, though. I’ll be okay. Just head back to Red Grave and help out Lady and Trish while I’m gone. I’ll come back to Devil May Cry when I get my shit together.”_

Nico read Nero’s messy signature at the bottom, followed by his last-minute request to not tell Kyrie about this, and a heart-wrenching sob finally managed to escape Nico’s lips.

This was all her fault, Nico realized gravely. She should never have yelled at him earlier. She knew deep down that something was wrong, but she refused to admit it. And now Nero has run away, and the only place he could’ve run off to was…

Nico’s paled even more. _/Oh no./_

Panic soon rose in Nico’s chest, and she sprinted out of the van faster than her legs could carry her, as if she had acquired a devil sprint of her own. 

“NERO!” Nico cried out desperately for her best friend, hoping and pleading for an answer that she knew would never come. “NEROO!!” 

Fearfully, she turned to face the Valley of the Skull, which sat several hundred yards away to the North. Having been raised in Eastern Nascita for most of her life, Nico knew all too well about the superstitions and urban legends that surrounded the infamous valley. 

No native Nascitian with a sound mind would dare to enter the valley, due to its close association with death. In Nascita, it was considered greatly disrespectful — vile, even — to trod on the graves of the departed. And with over 2,000 years’ worth of corpses littering the valley floor, entering the Valley of the Skull was practically a damnation. No one, not even the loved ones of suicide victims, entered the valley willingly, for fear of angering the countless spirits that were believed to be trapped there. Even the police were known to be leery, often shoving the rather hefty task of searching for victims onto new recruits or non-natives.

The old wife's tale said it best: “Only the fallen or the foolish dare enter The Valley of the Skull. Have pity on the man who has fallen, for he has surrendered himself to death’s waiting arms. But woe to the fool who spits in the face of death, for he has surrendered himself to the Devil.”

Nico did her best to push those thoughts aside, however, and she sprinted towards the valley. The closer Nico got to the entrance, however, the more those words of warning echoed in her mind, and her pace began to slow as hesitation kicked in. Finally, when Nico was one hundred yards away from the valley entrance, she felt herself screech to a stop. No matter how desperately she yearned to move forward, to search every last square inch of the valley for her partner, her legs refused to budge. 

“NEROOO!!!” Nico screamed, getting as close to the valley as a native Nascitian would dare. 

Nico knew what she needed to do, and she wished so badly that she could just push past the mental block and do it.

But she couldn’t do it. No matter how much she hated it, she just couldn’t bring herself to enter the valley. Nico wanted to punch herself for letting some dumb urban legend stop her, but she knew it was no use. The cultural taboos of her upbringing, coupled with her fear of only finding Nero when it was too late, was just too much for Nico to rationally overcome.

She couldn’t do it...she just couldn’t.

“N-nero…” Nico fell to her knees in defeat, despair washing over her. 

Finally, Nico tore her eyes away from the valley and retreated to the van, tears streaming down her face. She kept her sobs quiet as she walked across the rest stop, so as to not wake the other travelers staying overnight. As soon as she entered the van and locked the door behind her, however, Nico collapsed onto the couch and screamed into the cushions, dissolving into a puddle of tears. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her biggest nightmare was coming true. 

After what felt like hours of crying nonstop, Nico finally pulled herself together just enough to sit herself up on the sofa. With trembling hands, Nico fished the two sticky notes out of her pocket and gripped them tightly in her palm. 

The only thing that kept her calm was the last sentence Nero had written, the promise he gave her before sloppily writing his signature: _“I’ll come back to Devil May Cry when I get my shit together.”_

Nico stood and turned her head northward, gripping the note so hard that she was amazed her nails didn’t puncture it.

“I’m holding you to this, Nero.” Nico whispered in a shuddering voice. “You better come back to me, dammit!” 

Nico slumped back down onto the couch once more, her voice choked with tears. “Please...you better come back...”


	10. Mending What's Broken

The next morning, V woke up bright and early at the crack of dawn, yawning and stretching just as the first rays of sunlight began to shine over the cliffside. Smiling a bit, V stood up from his makeshift bed, shrugging off the sweat-jacket he and Nero had used as a blanket. Nero took no time at all in snatching the jacket and slinging it over his head, groaning tiredly. V rolled his eyes at Nero before walking over to the cliff’s edge, taking in the view. 

It really was a beautiful morning, V observed, the dark night sky slowly giving way to a multitude of colors as the sun began to rise over the horizon. 

_/Too bad Nero’s not awake to enjoy it,/_ V found himself thinking. _/After the night he had last night, he deserves some peace and tranquility.../_

V’s eyes trailed back towards Nero for a moment, whose head was buried in his jacket in a vain attempt to block out the daylight, and a devilish grin found its way onto his face. He’ll have to fix that. 

“ _Psst_...Nero! Hey, Nero!” V ran back over and nudged Nero excitedly, if not a bit annoyingly. “Nero, wake up!”

Nero groaned yet again in response, refusing to get up. “Why? What time is it?”

“Time to get up,” V replied cheekily, raising a mischievous brow.

Nero still refused to look up at V, stubbornly turning his back towards him with his head still covered. “Dammit, it’s too early for this. Go back to sleep.”

“Come on, Nero! Get up!” V continued to pester Nero, despite his grunts and groans in protest. “I need to show you something really important!”

“Can’t it wait five minutes?” Nero gruffed, flipping onto his stomach and wrapping the sweat-jacket even tighter around his head.

“No, it can’t! You need to see it right now!” V insisted. He ripped the jacket off of Nero’s back, much to his annoyance. “Come on, Nero! If you wait too long, you’ll miss it!” 

“Okay, okay, FINE!” Nero groaned and sat himself up in the grass, begrudgingly wiping the rheum from his eyes. “I’m awake! Now what the hell is it?”

“Good morning to you, too.” V rolled his eyes playfully before grabbing Nero’s arm. “Now, come on. I’ll show you.”

V forcefully dragged Nero to the cliff’s edge before he could even stand up, leaving the poor devil hunter tripping over his heels in a vain attempt to keep up. He didn’t even pause to let Nero put on his jacket. Thankfully, Umbra — who had been sleeping peacefully until he was oh-so-rudely awakened by the noise — grabbed the jacket with his teeth and dragged it over to Nero, who begrudgingly threw it over his shoulders.

“Okay, I’m here.” Nero rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned. “What did you want to show me?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” V winked in response, gesturing to the view in front of them. 

Nero shrugged and looked out over the cliff’s edge, unsure of what to expect. 

In front of them sat a scenic view of the northern valley, which rested about 50 feet below the dropoff. A large, crystal-clear river flowed directly beneath them; they could jump off the cliff and straight into the water, if they wanted to. In the distance, the skyscrapers of Sapere City could just barely be seen over the treetops. 

Nero’s eyes glazed over in annoyance. He literally could’ve looked at this any time during the day. “THIS is what was so important?”

“Not that,” V turned Nero’s head upwards towards the horizon and pointed with his staff. _“That!”_

“That”, as Nero soon realized, was the sunrise. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, painting the sky all sorts of colorful hues. It really was beautiful, Nero had to admit. But did he really have to wake him up just for _that?_

“Yeah, that’s great, whatever.” Nero rolled his eyes and began to turn around. “Can I go back to sleep now?” 

“Oh, no, you don’t.” V snagged Nero’s jacket hood with his cane and spun Nero back around.

Nero groaned in response. “Dammit, V, you said this was something important!”

“This is important.” V slung his cane back over his shoulder before turning to face the sunlight, basking in its warm glow. “You’ve never stopped and enjoyed this before, have you? That’s a shame, really. I can’t think of anything more peaceful and grounding than watching the sunrise, and to think that we’re blessed with one every single day…well, I think it goes without saying just how many you’ve missed.”

V closed his eyes blissfully as the warm sunlight touched his skin, and Nero couldn’t help but laugh. Who knew that his emo not-father was such a morning person? 

“I thought Goths were supposed to hate sunlight,” Nero quipped, nudging V playfully with his elbow. 

V shoved Nero lightheartedly in response. “Just shut up and watch the sunrise before it’s over.”

Over the next few minutes, the devil hunters stood in silence, watching as the rising sun painted the sky with purple, red, and orange hues. Gradually, the warm colors slowly faded away, giving way to yellows, greens, and blues. After just a few short minutes, the sunrise ended, and the morning sky returned to its typical shade of cyan. It honestly surprised Nero how short the whole ordeal was; now he understood why V was so urgent about it.

Finally, after a few lingering moments of silence, Nero spoke: ”You know, I never really understood why people made such a big deal about this sort of thing — you know, sunrises and sunsets and all that. I always thought it sounded boring...but honestly, it was really peaceful.”

“The world is full of simple beauty like this, you know.” V reminded him. “The sight of the sun rising and setting over the horizon, the sound of gentle waves crashing on the beach, the smell of fresh rain on the pavement...all of these things can bring peace and harmony if you let them.” 

V tilted his head slightly as he contemplated. “But I understand where you’re coming from. People get so absorbed in everything else in their lives, that they never really stop and enjoy what’s right in front of them. They take the little things for granted, assuming the sun will always rise tomorrow...but you never know whether or not you’ll rise with it.”

V chuckled softly. “And before you ask: yes, that’s another V quote.”

Nero bit his lip and tore his eyes from the horizon, dropping his gaze to the grass at their feet. He tried his best to ignore it, to shake off the mental image of V’s last few moments from his mind, but at no avail. Almost against his will, he painfully recalled carrying V to the Qliphoth and looking down at the human half of his father, who was slowly crumbling to dust. If V hadn’t returned to the demon tree in time, he would’ve died; all that would’ve been left of Vergil was his demon half, the monster of a father Nero hated with every fiber of his being. 

V knew that he wouldn’t have lived to see the sunrise the next morning — at least, not in his current state. But did he even know if he would live long enough to make things right? The longer Nero thought about it, the more he realized that he probably didn’t. Not even then had Nero fully understood what was at stake, what all would have been lost had V not returned to Urizen in time. But now, he did, and the crushing realization weighed down on Nero’s heart like a ton of bricks. 

The sound of V’s voice awakened him from his thoughts. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Huh? Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Nero shook his head as if to clear it, although his face was still plagued with guilt. “These ‘V quotes’ are just really striking a chord with me.”

Despite the heaviness in his heart, Nero couldn’t help but laugh, in spite of himself. “At least back when you quoted William Blake, I didn’t understand any of it.”

V gave Nero a reassuring smile. “Well, it’s like I said last night: if you need to talk about it, I’m always here to listen.”

“I know,” Nero shrugged. “It’s just...complicated, okay? I don’t want to drag you into this mess any more than I already have…” 

“You didn’t drag me into this,” V reminded him. “It was my decision to go after you when you ran off, and it was my decision to stay. I wouldn’t have done either if I didn’t want to help.”

“You’re just keeping me around so I can help you get your memory back,” Nero turned away and crossed his arms broodingly, glaring down at the ground. “Remember? You said it yourself.”

“I didn’t say that,” V rebuked him. 

Nero began to walk away, but V grabbed Nero’s shoulder before he could, forcing him to stop. Nero, frustrated, roughly grasped V’s hand and bitterly threw it off of his shoulder. 

V recoiled a bit when Nero did this, but he fought to keep his voice firm. “Nero, look: I don’t care about getting my memory back right now. That Qliphoth isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Right now, you and your well-being are the only thing that matters to me.” 

Nero didn’t respond, though he remained surprisingly still. 

“You don’t have to be so alone through all of this, you know.” V continued. “You’re hurting, Nero, and I want to help ease that pain. Sure, these wounds might heal on their own...but if traveling with Umbra taught me anything, it’s that they heal so much faster when you let yourself get close.”

Umbra, having watched the whole ordeal in uncharacteristic silence, looked up at his master with a stunned look on his face. After viewing him as little more than a child for so long, Umbra was shocked to see how wise V truly was. Perhaps this was this a sign of V’s memory returning, and his master was slowly returning to normal? Or, rather...was this wisdom always there, and Umbra simply hadn’t realized it? 

Eventually, however, Umbra shook off his dumbfoundment and covered it with a sarcastic smirk. “Heh...since when did you become a therapist?” 

V rolled his eyes playfully at the panther before returning his attention to Nero. “So, tell me. What’s on your mind?” 

Sighing, Nero turned back around and faced his colleague. His gaze was still fixed at the ground, and his arms were still crossed broodingly at his chest, but at least they were making progress, V figured. 

“Like I said, it’s complicated,” Nero began, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “It’s just...I’ve done a lot of stupid things over the past few months. I punched my uncle in the face just for calling me dead weight, I threw away Vergil’s book instead of keeping it like I promised, I got mad at my best friend for the dumbest of reasons and nearly got her killed…and I nearly got you killed...” 

Nero’s lip began to quiver, but he bit down hard to keep from sobbing. “There’s just so many things I regret doing, so many people in my life I took for granted...it’s no wonder I’m such a goddamn mess. I just feel like I’ve screwed everything up, and I’ll never stop screwing things up. It almost feels like…”

Nero’s voice cracked a bit. Could he even bring himself to say it? “Like everyone would be better off if I’d just...never been born.”

V’s eyes seemed to turn glassy at this statement, and without a moment’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Nero in a comforting hug. He knew Nero was hurting, but this was worse than he could ever have imagined.

“You don’t ever have to feel that way, Nero,” V said soothingly. “You were put on this earth for a reason, and so many people would be devastated if you were gone. I know that what you’ve been going through is hard, but this isn’t the answer.”

As much as he tried to fight it, tears began to stream down Nero’s face faster than he could stubbornly wipe away. “Then why does it feel like it is?” 

“Because your mind has been focused too much on the past,” V answered wisely. “You dwell more than you like to admit, Nero. You’re spending so much time and energy thinking about the past...what you regret, who hurt you, what could’ve been...that it’s blinding your actions in the present.”

V retracted from the hug and smiled softly. “That’s why I woke you up this morning. When you watched the sunrise, you weren’t thinking about the past; you were just there, enjoying the moment, and that put you at peace. I think that’s what you’ve been needing all along — to just drown out all those voices in your head and learn to live in the moment.”

Nero finally retracted himself fully from the hug, wiping his eyes furiously to keep from crying any harder. Umbra sure wasn’t kidding when he said V was acting like a therapist; he really did know just what to say to make him feel better. 

It was funny, really, how someone who was split from such a cold and uncaring man could be so in-tune with other people’s emotions. Nero couldn’t help but wonder about the sorcerer standing in front of him — a man who felt so similar to the V he knew back in June, and yet so strikingly different. Was it because of his amnesia that V was acting so different, or the experiences he had within the last two days? Or was the V standing in front of him someone else entirely? Nero knew V could never answer these questions for him, but they still boggled his mind regardless.

“Thanks, V,” Nero said finally, wiping his eyes one last time before giving his colleague a small smile. “I think I did need this.”

“Anytime,” V replied. 

A few moments of silence spread between the two of them, Nero slowly regaining his composure and V waiting patiently as he did so. 

Finally, when Nero pulled himself together, he gave V a sheepish grin. “So, uh...you wouldn’t happen to have any tips on staying grounded, would you?”

“Besides what I said earlier?” V scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know, really. Umbra might’ve called me a therapist, but honestly, I’m far from an expert.”

“You know more than I do,” Nero shrugged in reply, smirking a little. “Come on, wise guy, the worst thing you’ll do is make me cry again. What do you have to lose?” 

V let out a quiet little chuckle before brainstorming. “All right, let me think…how about doing something you enjoy? That should put you at peace.”

V gave Nero an expectant look. “I don’t know what all you like, so you’ll have to think this one through for yourself.”

“Something I enjoy...?” 

Nero’s mind quickly drew a blank. It really shouldn’t have been this hard to think of something...

“You know, like a hobby,” V shrugged, not thinking much of it. “Or your interests or whatever. What do you do for fun?” 

Nero racked his brain for an answer. _/Fun, fun...come on, dumbass, what do you do for fun?!/_

The only thing Nero could think of was devil hunting, honestly, and his face paled when he realized that punching demons in the face wasn’t an acceptable answer. Surely there was more to his life than just fighting, right? There had to be something else that gave his life meaning…

...Right? 

V, noticing the color drain from Nero’s face, began to ask if he was all right. However, before he could even get the words out of his mouth, a loud, demonic roar echoed through the valley and rattled the cliffside, awakening Nero and V from their thoughts. 

Instinctively, Nero unsheathed Red Queen and held it at the ready. Looks like it was time to have some fun, huh? 

“I’ll be right back,” Nero told V and Umbra. “I can handle thi—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, however, V had already climbed onto Umbra’s back and charged into the woods, using the flashing red light on his cane to guide them. 

“The demon’s this way!” V called out to a very startled Nero before disappearing into the brush.

* * *

Nero finally caught up with V and Umbra in the middle of a clearing, and not a moment too soon. A horde — almost identical in size and strength to the one Nero had fought yesterday morning — was waiting for them, with over 30 lesser demons swarming around a newly-formed Hell Breach. 

A pit began to form in Nero’s stomach as he quickly surveyed the damage, and his heart sank to his stomach when he realized that this was the same clearing from last night. _/Dammit, not again.../_

V didn’t pay his surroundings much mind, however, and he quickly sprang into action. 

“You take left, I’ll take right!” V called out to his familiar, splitting up. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”

V called out to Nero over his shoulder, as well, as he fished out his spellbook from his inner coat pocket. “Nero, you’re dead center.” 

Nero was completely taken aback. He had never seen V this proactive on the battlefield before. “What? Since when did you—?!” 

“I don’t see you coming up with any ideas,” V countered. “Now, shake a leg! We’ve got work to do.”

Despite his master’s commands, Umbra just _had_ to take a second and laugh in Nero’s face. “Ha! Way to have an amnesiac tell you how to do your jo—“

Umbra was interrupted by a Pyrobat’s attack, however, and he yelped as he narrowly dodged a barrage of flames. 

_“I said, shake a leg!”_ V called out in exasperation.

“Right, sorry,” Umbra replied, quickly retreating to the left flank. 

Nero shrugged before pulling Red Queen out of its sheath once more, preparing to charge his melee weapon with demonic energy and unleash an Exceed attack. However, when he revved the motorcycle-like engine, nothing seemed to happen, taking Nero by surprise. Why didn’t it ignite? 

Panic began to rise in Nero’s chest as he struggled to summon his demonic energy, something he never had trouble with before. The once raging hellfire in his soul was now startling dim, starved from its lack of a fuel source — Nero’s inner frustration and turmoil. Nero almost wanted to scream, he was so mortified. Was his power really that driven by anger for all these years?

The blood-curdling scream of an approaching Death Scissors awoke Nero from his thoughts, and he resorted to a simple sword strike, instead. Even without Exceed, his attack was swift and deadly accurate, hacking its shears clean off. At least he still had his skill. Gritting his teeth, Nero unleashed a high roller attack and swept the Death Scissors into the air, before bringing down his sword where he knew it would be fatal. The Death Scissors exploded like confetti, sending red orbs flying in all directions. 

“Hey, V, how are you holding up?” Nero called out to his partner as soon as he landed on his feet. 

“Pretty well, actually,” V replied, expertly dodging a Hell Antenora’s berserk attack with a grin on his face. 

V quickly met the Hell Antenora’s attack with one of his own, muttering a combat spell under his breath. Yellow sparks began to ignite at the end of his cane, cackling like lightning. With a single, swift movement, he stabbed the Hell Antenora, electrocuting it on the spot.

V laughed as the demon dissolved into red orbs, smiling down at his staff with a triumphant look on his face. “Looks like devil hunting really is in my blood.”

“Good for you,” Umbra rolled his eyes as he sliced through yet another demon with his tendrils. “Now, would it kill you to spot me a little? You’re the demon master, it’s kind of your job!” 

“I dunno, you seem to be handling yourself pretty well,” V quipped, grinning smugly at his familiar. 

Umbra shot a rather nasty glare in V’s direction, but otherwise, he didn’t respond. 

Slowly but surely, the trio cut down the horde of enemies one-by-one, starting on the outer edges and working their way towards the middle. Nero did eventually manage to activate his Exceed, albeit with only half the success rate and twice the usual effort. Nonetheless, he refused to let his uncooperative demonic energy slow him down; what he lacked in power, he made up for in technique and skill. After all, no matter what attacks he used, demons all fall the same. 

Still, Nero couldn’t help but worry in the back of his mind. He had already lost his Devil Trigger; does this mean he’s losing all of his other abilities, too? It terrified Nero, honestly. Why was his inner storm becoming so hard to control? 

Nero shook the thought from his mind, however, and instead shifted his focus towards V. For not the first time since they had found each other, Nero couldn’t help but notice just how different V was from the mysterious man he knew a month ago. Unlike the old V, who stuck to the outskirts of the battlefield and relied only on his familiars for combat, this V jumped straight into the fray. In fact, V was fighting alongside Umbra, striking his enemies with fire and lightning and teleporting to dodge their attacks. Unlike his questionable counterpart, this new V was unbelievably and undeniably strong, both inside and out.

When the last demon of the horde finally bit the dust, Nero looked at V with fresh eyes. The once frail and sickly fragment of his father now stood tall and proud, no longer leaning against his humble cane for support, but instead holding it aloft beside him like a powerful staff. V was so much more confident than Nero remembered...it honestly made him wonder if he should even consider them the same person anymore. 

Nero quickly threw those thoughts aside, however, and he gave his colleague a smile. “So, how was your first devil hunting experience?”

“Exhilarating,” V breathed in response, grinning ear-to-ear. “And to think, we used to do this together every day...it’s amazing! We must’ve had so much fun.”

Nero didn’t want to burst V’s bubble, so he put on a fake smile and bobbed his head up and down in reply. “Yeah...it sure was…” 

Eventually, though, V’s euphoria wore off, and he turned to address the elephant in the room — the Hell Breach. 

It was roughly twice the size of the breach V encountered in the Northern Woods, spanning about 12 feet in height and 6 feet in width. On the official scale, this breach would’ve been classified as a Yellow Zone, the not-so-happy medium between the safer Green Zone and the more dangerous Red Zone. 

Curiously, V approached the Hell Breach and examined it up close, taking it in from all sides. 

“This definitely wasn’t here last night,” V deduced, speaking his thoughts aloud. “How did it form so quickly?”

Nero’s heart stung painfully in his chest. He didn’t want to admit it, that he was the one to blame — not when V had so much faith and confidence in him. But as Nero turned around and took in his surroundings — _really_ took them in — he knew it needed to be said. 

Sighing a long, shuddery sigh, Nero turned his back towards V before hanging his head in shame. 

“This isn’t the first time this has happened.” Nero’s voice was barely a whisper, and he winced as if bracing himself for an impact. “V...look around you.”

V was perplexed by this, at first, and he turned and gave Nero an inquisitive look. As he slowly took in his surroundings, however, the confusion on V’s face soon gave way to horror as realization sank in. The entire clearing was destroyed, every last tree uprooted and every last shrub torn to shreds. In front of Nero, a large tree trunk was split right down the middle, its two halves so heavily mutilated that it was barely recognizable. The ground surrounding Nero was covered in burn marks, as if a series of bombs had been detonated there. 

V’s eyes then fell on Nero, and for just a brief moment, he recalled the feral demon from last night. Nero was standing in the exact same spot where they had first met — where V first locked eyes with a terrified demon who looked like he had just seen the Devil. He recalled Nero’s Bringer Claws tearing through anything they could reach, and he remembered the demon’s painful and broken cries. 

Nero wasn’t just hurting, V realized gravely. He was afraid of himself. 

Nero fell to his knees in despair, and his voice quivered fearfully as he spoke: “Looks like I’m just like my father, after all. All I ever do is destroy...”

V’s heart seemed to shatter at Nero’s words. He finally understood why Nero was so miserable, and the full story was far worse than anything he could’ve expected. Nero was completely and utterly broken — in body, mind, and spirit — and he needed him now more than ever. 

“Nero, you are nothing like Vergil,” V assured him, kneeling down beside him. “I only know what you told me about him, but trust me...you have nothing in common with that son of a bitch. We can fix this, I promise.” 

“How?” Nero asked none-too-gently in reply. 

“I don’t know,” V dropped his gaze for a moment before looking Nero straight in the eyes. “But if you’re strong enough to break the human-hell barrier at your worst, then I know for a fact you can fix it at your best.” 

“Maybe I should say it a little slower for you.” Nero turned around and gestured spastically to the giant Hell Breach in front of them. “ _Ho-o-ow?”_

V finally stood to his feet, and he turned and stared down the Hell Breach with a determined look on his face. “We’ll just have to figure it out.” 

As if someone merely flipped a switch, V’s brain went into full-on sleuth mode, and the gears in his head began to grind so hard that Umbra could’ve sworn he saw steam billowing out of it. V began to pace back and forth, running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly as he brainstormed. 

Nero chose to just sit back and let V do all the hard thinking. It has long been a running gag at Devil May Cry that the Sparda family shares one brain cell; if V needed it this badly, then by God, let him have it. 

Finally, V figured out a solution...well, more like a hunch. 

“Walk me through your powers real quick,” V began, turning to face Nero. “You know...your demonic abilities. We need to figure out which one of them could’ve caused the breach.” 

“Well, I used Red Queen when I made the first Hell Breach,” Nero shrugged. “And I was in DT last night. But my Exceed attacks and my Bringer Claws have nothing in common.”

V scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Bringer Claws...they’re those wing-looking things you have during Devil Trigger, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Nero replied flatly. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well, DT is basically the apex of demonic power, right?” V continued. “And your Exceed attack uses raw demonic energy. And since the Hell Breaches formed after you released that energy…”

V’s green eyes met with Nero’s, glistening in that curious way they always did when he was excited. “You know what this means, right?”

“Nope, still lost.” Nero shook his head. 

V slammed his face into his palm. He really did have the one Sparda brain cell right now, did he? 

“It means, you must be able to use your demonic energy to manipulate the barrier at will!” V explained fervently, although a hint of exasperation still found its way into his voice. 

Nero’s eyes widened at the revelation. “Wait, _what?_ You mean, like...I can open portals?” 

“Apparently,” V shrugged in an i-don’t-know sort of gesture. “It‘s honestly just a guess on my part. But it makes sense, given the...uh...evidence.”

V gestured to the portal vaguely with an awkward half-smile before continuing.

“I don’t know about full-on _portal_ portals, of course — with set destinations and all that — but you’ve definitely made ones between the human and demon worlds. How else would demons have used them to cross over? It’s the only explanation, really.”

Nero pondered this for a moment. Despite how completely and utterly bizarre it sounded — that he could somehow rip a hole in the human-hell barrier Yamato-style — it actually did make some sense. After all, Nero’s Devil Bringer did react with Yamato all those years ago. Perhaps this whole portal mumbo-jumbo wasn’t just exclusive to his father, after all, nor his legendary katana...

Eventually, Nero nodded his head in agreement. “Now that you mention it...I guess it makes sense that I can open portals like Vergil can, though this is obviously more limited.” 

Nero shook his head in disbelief. “It’s still weird as hell to think about, though. I always thought this portal weirdness was just a Yamato thing...but maybe it’s in our blood.”

“Apparently, a lot of things in devil hunting are,” V replied, his eyes trailing over to the cane at his shoulder for a split second. 

V shook the thought from his mind, however, and quickly returned to the task at hand. 

“But if this is similar to a portal,” V concluded. “Then you should be able to close it the same way you opened it — by channeling your demonic energy. The key, of course, is to stay in control.”

Nero probably should’ve mentioned that his demonic energy was literally playing hide-and-seek in his soul right now, and — even if he was in control — he probably couldn’t channel it. But when Nero saw that guilt-tripping, optimistic grin on V’s face, he knew he at least had to try. 

Sighing, Nero stood up and approached the Hell Breach, and he tentatively unsheathed Red Queen. With shaking hands, he lifted his sword and touched it against the edge of the breach. 

_/Okay, Nero. Focus./_ Nero forced himself to take a deep breath. _/You can do this. Just summon your demonic energy like you always do./_

Nero closed his eyes and turned his attention inward, searching for his inner storm. It took a few minutes, but he finally managed to find it. It felt so much calmer than what he was used to; Nero almost didn’t detect its presence, at all. What used to be like a raging hurricane in his soul was now little more than a feeble gust of wind. Nevertheless, Nero tried his best to stoke the fire, repeating all those same mantras he told himself before: all those times people had underestimated him, being called dead weight…

But it wasn’t working, Nero realized with a start. All of his raging thoughts that once fueled the fire...all those things that once angered him and filled him with spite...they just didn’t frustrate him anymore. How could he care about being underestimated when he already had no self-worth? How could being called dead weight insult him when he already knew he was useless? The anger that once filled his soul with fire was now a hopeless sea of depression. All these mantras did now was drag him even further below the tides.

“I can’t do it,” Nero sighed in defeat. “I’m not pissed off enough.”

V was absolutely dumbfounded. “...I’m sorry, what? Why would you _want_ to be pissed off?” 

“It’s the only way I can summon enough energy,” Nero explained with a groan. “Without it, I just don’t have enough juice.”

That didn’t clear up V’s confusion at all. If anything, it only left him even more perplexed. “Okay, I don’t know what idiot taught you how demon blood works, but that’s definitely not it.” 

“That’s me,” Nero rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I’m the idiot.” 

“Shit, sorry…” V winced slightly before responding. “But you know what I meant. You don’t need to rely on anger to ‘give it enough juice’ or whatever; it’s literally always inside of you, no matter what your emotions are.”

“Then why can’t I summon it, genius?” Nero groaned in frustration.

“Don’t get frustrated,” V reminded him hastily. He really didn’t want Nero accidentally opening another portal to hell. “That’ll only make things worse. You can still sense your demonic energy, though, right?”

“Barely,” Nero scoffed. 

“Then focus on that,” V instructed him. “Don’t worry about trying to amplify it. Just focus on channeling the energy into your sword arm.” 

Taking V’s advice into account, Nero took in a deep, slow breath, exhaling his building frustration. With a calm mind, he closed his eyes again and located his inner storm. Rather than fan the flames, however, Nero focused on channeling the energy, slowly but surely redirecting it into Red Queen. Finally, after steady progress, he gathered enough energy to charge his melee weapon, and he coated Red Queen in demonic energy. 

Suddenly, an outline of the human-hell barrier appeared, stretching as far as the eye could see and extending over a hundred feet above them. The barrier was semi-transparent and appeared almost gossamer in nature, just barely visible to the human eye. The millions upon millions of demonic runes that decorated its walls gave it the appearance of a thinly-cut veil. The barrier seemed to glow brighter when it came in close proximity to Red Queen, however, solidifying into an almost iridescent purple shade. 

“Yes, that’s it!” V said encouragingly, his green eyes glistening with awe.

Slowly but surely, the barrier began to repair itself, stitching the breach closed until it became whole once again. Nero calmly lowered his sword and opened his eyes, which glowed for a brief moment — yellow, not red. For the first time in over a month, he was completely in control. 

Once the demonic energy receded to the darkest depths of his soul once more, Nero’s eyes returned to their natural blue color, and the barrier disappeared from sight. In the end, it was like the Hell Breach had never even existed.

“I did it,” Nero breathed. He could hardly believe it, himself. “I actually did it!” 

“Hell yeah, you did!” V was absolutely elated. “That was totally badass!” 

Grinning ear-to-ear, V gave Nero a celebratory high-five before pulling him into a quick bear hug — something Nero might’ve expected from Dante, but certainly not from V. As strange as it was, however, Nero couldn’t help but laugh. Looks like that’s yet another difference between the old and new V. He liked it, honestly. 

Suddenly, Umbra let out a purposely loud yawn, catching both of them off-guard. They honestly forgot he was there. “Yeah, as much fun as it was to watch you idiots try and fix a hole, I think we should get moving. We’re still a long way from Red Grave City.”

“Yeah, Umbra’s right,” V nodded, remembering the task at hand. “We need to continue our journey.”

But Nero had something else in mind.

“Actually, we need to go back to the cliffside real quick.” Nero impulsively grabbed V’s arm and began to drag him in that direction. 

“Huh? Why?” V inquired. 

Nero’s eyes met with V’s for a moment, and V could see an excited gleam in Nero’s pale blue irises — that same lively glisten that V’s green eyes so often had. 

“If you could help me control this demonic power,” Nero grinned triumphantly. “Then you can help me control my Devil Trigger.”


	11. Inner Strength

It was July 17th, 6:00 AM, when Nico drove back to Red Grave City from the failed devil hunting mission, all alone in the Devil May Cry van. During the entire trip home, Nico’s vision was obscured by a constant stream of tears, and no amount of tissues, cigarettes, or soothing music could help dry them. The two sticky notes were folded neatly in her back pocket, but Nero’s message still lingered in the forefront of her mind, no matter how desperately she tried to ignore it. 

“ _I’ll come back to Devil May Cry when I get my shit together_ ” — that was the only thing keeping her going, at this point. If it weren’t for that promise at the end of Nero’s note, Nico might never have left the rest stop; she would’ve been paralyzed for days, helplessly sobbing into the couch cushions as she feared the inevitable. It was Nero’s promise that gave her the motivation to travel back to Red Grave, the patience to wait for his return, and the hope to believe that this promise wasn’t in vain. Still, she hated feeling so powerless; the fate of her best friend was literally at stake, but it was also completely beyond her control. All she could do was wait and hope for the best, no matter how much Nico wished otherwise. 

Normally, Nico drove down this bypass at well over 90 MPH, but tonight, her speedometer was shockingly slow, hovering right at or even below the speed limit. Nico even followed basic traffic laws (for once) as she drove from Tumult City to Red Grave, for fear of her emotional outbursts impairing her driving skill. Nico was so upset, in fact, that she didn’t even bother trying to launch the van across the compromised access bridge to get into Red Grave — a daring and reckless stunt that she would’ve otherwise performed in a heartbeat. Instead, she slowly and safely drove to the ferry service outside of town, boarding the van onto the boat like she was supposed to. 

“Where ya headin' today, Miss?” The ferryman asked tiredly, tapping on Nico’s window. “Fortuna or Red Grave?” 

Nico fought to keep her voice firm as she rolled down the window and answered, stubbornly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Red Grave.”

Thankfully, the ferryman didn’t pay Nico’s obvious crying much mind, and he drove the boat into Red Grave City without another word. 

Finally, at about 7:00 AM, Nico arrived at the Devil May Cry main branch. The normally 30-minute drive — 15 minutes for Nico — took nearly an hour, but Nico was far too upset to care. Nico dragged herself out of the van and trudged to the front door of Devil May Cry, as if her ankles were weighed down with lead. Sniffling, Nico knocked on the front door and waited for either Trish or Lady to answer, not even bothering to lift her gaze from the gravel at her feet. 

“It’s unlocked,” A female voice sounded from inside — whether it was Lady’s or Trish’s, Nico couldn’t tell. 

Sighing, Nico slowly turned the doorknob and stepped into the main office, wiping her eyes yet again before finally lifting her head. Lady and Trish were both huddled by the radio behind Dante’s desk, their backs turned to Nico as they awaited their daily devil hunter assignment. Lady was the first to acknowledge the door opening, and she promptly turned around to greet the customer.

“Welcome to Devil May Cr—“ Lady began, but when her eyes met with Nico’s, the words evaporated from her mouth. 

Lady jabbed Trish none-too-gently in the ribs, prompting her to turn around.

“Ow! What is it—?” Trish finally turned and saw Nico, as well, and the annoyed look she intended to give Lady was instantly wiped from her face. “...Oh.”

In front of them stood none other than Nicoletta Goldstein, taking both of them by surprise; after hearing about the Red Zone in Tumult City, they certainly weren’t expecting her and Nero to return so soon. Nero was nowhere to be found, however, which made the sudden drop-in even more confounding. 

But the most startling sight to behold was how upset Nico was: her eyes were puffy and red, her shoulders were slumped forward, and her signature smile was noticeably absent from her face. The normally cheeky and lighthearted Artisan of Arms was a completely disheveled mess, and it was startling enough to leave Lady and Trish in shock. Much like Nero, it took a LOT to make Nico cry, so they knew that something was definitely wrong. 

As if someone had merely flipped a switch, Trish and Lady went from staring wide-eyed at Nico to scrambling on their feet to comfort her. Lady scuttled around the desk and quickly ran up to Nico, guiding her to a nearby sofa and gently sitting her down. Trish ran to the restroom and grabbed a fistful of paper towels — the closest thing they had on hand to tissues — and offered them to Nico, who snatched them up in a heartbeat. 

“Nico, are you okay?” Lady asked, her voice filled with concern. “What happened? Why isn’t Nero with you?” 

“I’m not good with this.” The normally mellow Trish looked like a deer caught in headlights, and she glanced desperately at Lady for help. Being a literal demonspawn of Mundus, comforting people wasn’t exactly her thing. “What do I do? Should I, like, bring her some tea or something? Grab a blanket from somewhere? Hug her? Order pizza? Come on, Lady, help me out here!”

“You could start by calming down,” Lady replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at her partner before asking Nico directly. “Do you need anything, Nico?” 

Nico blew her nose into a tissue before shaking her head. “I don’t think anything's gonna help, at this point. I’ve been cryin’ nonstop for hours…”

“So, that’s a yes on the tea?” Trish replied with a shrug. Nico was bound to be dehydrated, if that were the case. 

“That’d be nice,” Nico sniffled in response. “Make sure it’s sweet.”

Trish nodded and trekked off to the kitchenette, leaving Nico alone with Lady. Nico dried her eyes with yet another tissue — not that it would help matters, given how strong the waterworks have been since she left Tumult City. Lady had never seen Nico so shaken up before; honestly, even she didn’t know how to comfort the Artisan of Arms.

Finally, after a few minutes, Trish returned with a cup of piping hot tea and sat it down on the coffee table in front of Nico. Trish sat herself down on the couch, as well, situating herself on the right side of Nico while Lady sat at her left. As Nico gingerly brought the tea to her lips, Trish tentatively brought her left arm up and began to drape it around Nico’s shoulder. Before she did, however, she glanced over at Lady in a way that asked, “Is this what I’m supposed to do now?” Lady nodded in approval, and Trish continued, placing a comforting hand on Nico’s left shoulder. 

“Thanks, y’all,” Nico sniffed, her tears slowly but surely subsiding as she continued to sip the hot beverage. She was still far from okay, of course, but at least it helped. 

“So, what‘s wrong?” Lady asked, tossing some of Nico’s old tissues into the garbage can behind them. “I’ve never seen you so upset. Did something happen back in Tumult City?”

Nico seemed to tense up at the question, but she knew she had to explain it sooner or later. Sighing a long, shuddery sigh, Nico shakily set down the cup of tea and began: “Trust me, it’s a helluva long story…I’ll try my best to explain it, though.” 

Over the next several minutes, Nico recounted the events of the last few days to Lady and Trish. She started with Nero sneaking off at night, followed by the Hell Breach and the Hydra. Nico rambled about Nero’s emotions and how volatile they had become, as well as how reckless he had become in battle. This led into more painful recounts of his rogue DT, the scathing words he said about not needing her, and the even harsher words she said in return. 

Finally, with trembling hands, Nico pulled the sticky notes out of her pocket and showed them to Lady and Trish. 

“I-i found these on the jukebox last night,” Nico’s voice quivered as she spoke. “And Nero, he...well...j-just read ‘em for yourselves.” 

Tentatively, Lady unfolded the notes and began to read them aloud for Trish to hear: “ _‘Dear Nico, I’m sorry you had to put up with my bullshit these past few weeks. I haven’t been thinking straight ever since the Qliphoth, and I should’ve said something sooner. I thought I was strong enough, but I’m not. I’m supposed to be protecting this city...but I can’t protect anyone like this.’_ ”

Lady bit her lip nervously. She had a feeling this would happen, but she kept hoping and praying she was wrong...

“ _‘If I stay,’_ ” Lady continued to read. “ _‘I’ll only wind up getting everyone hurt. It’d be better for everyone if I just left.’_ ”

“It gets worse,” Nico whimpered. “Keep reading…” 

Lady reluctantly continued: “ _‘The point is...I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll come back. I just need some time to figure things out for myself. Don’t worry about me, though. I’ll be okay. Just head back to Red Grave and help out Lady and Trish while I’m gone. I’ll come back to Devil May Cry when I get my shit together. Signed, Nero.’_ ”

Lady gasped at the P.S. message beneath it. 

“ _‘P.S.: Don’t tell Kyrie about any of this. Please. I don’t want her to worry.’_ ” Lady shook her head in disbelief. “He never hides anything from Kyrie...this is worse than I thought.”

“So, Nero ran away?” Trish asked Nico for confirmation. She could hardly believe it, herself. “But that’s so unlike him…he’s never been one to just give up...why would he ever…?” 

“I know why,” Nico whispered, closing her eyes painfully. 

When Trish and Lady gave her an inquiring look, Nico took in a deep, sharp breath, and she finally managed to stammer out her biggest fear — the fear that had been plaguing her for so long, but she never had the strength to say out loud: “Nero...he went to the Valley of the Skull...and I’m worried that...that…” 

A sob managed to escape Nico’s lips. Could she even bring herself to say it? “...He’s gonna kill himself.”

Lady and Trish’s eyes both snapped open in an instant, and immediately they attempted to calm Nico down. 

“Nico, you know that’s not true,” Lady said assuringly. “Sure, Nero’s had a pretty tough life, but he’s stronger than that. I promise.”

“And remember: Nero’s part-demon, and he heals quickly,” Trish reminded Nico seriously. “It takes a LOT more than you’d think for him to die completely. I know Nero’s dense, but even he’s bound to know that.”

But Nico rejected both of them, shaking her head frantically. “No, you don’t get it! I know damn well it takes more than a bullet to the head to kill Nero...but he sure as hell ain’t invincible, either. And I’ve seen Nero when he’s pissed off before, but what I saw this past month was so, so much worse…”

Nico buried her face in her hands. “I’ve seen him when his eyes turn red in DT, Lady — when he’s lost all control — and it left me shakin’ in my damn boots. Even if he can’t die by his own hand, he ain’t safe out there on his own. Who knows what’ll happen if his anger’s left unchecked?” 

Lady’s eyes seemed to widen at this. She was worried this might happen — that Nero would fall down the same path of destruction as his father — but she never expected it would happen so soon. 

“Dammit,” Lady cursed under her breath, taking Nico by surprise. “I know exactly why this is happening.”

“Huh?” Nico gave Lady a curious look. “What are you talking about?”

“You know how upset Nero was when he found out Vergil was his father, right?” Lady explained, anger and frustration lacing into her words more and more as she spoke. “I thought I gave him all the advice he needed...but I was wrong. I wasn’t surprised when Vergil ran off into Hell like the deadbeat he is, but I never thought Dante would’ve left, also! Ugh, that dumbass...the kid grew up in an orphanage, for Sparda’s sake! Did they not even stop to consider how this would’ve affected him?”

Upon seeing Trish and Nico’s concerned looks, however, Lady shook her head and sighed. “Look, the point I’m trying to get at is...none of us were expecting for Vergil _and_ Dante to abandon Nero — least of all himself. And if he was angry enough back in June to want to kill his own father, then watching both his father and uncle willingly leave him...well, I think you know firsthand how it’s pushed him past the breaking point.” 

Tears began to fall down Nico’s face again, only now the reason was much different. That haunting mental image of Nero from her nightmare — where he turned into an exact replica of his father — flashed before her eyes every time she blinked. 

“He lost everything…” Nico whispered in reply, realization shaking her down to the very core. “...Just like Vergil.”

Before she knew it, Nico was crying harder than she had cried all night, burying her face in her hands in a vain attempt to muffle her sobs. Lady pulled Nico into a warm and comforting hug, and Nico buried her face in Lady’s shoulder.

“God, why didn’t I do somethin’ sooner?” Nico cried out between sobs. “I coulda helped him! I coulda kept all of this from happenin’! But now Nero’s gone...and there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it…”

Trish was surprisingly silent throughout the whole ordeal. Eventually, however, Trish finally spoke up, asking the one question Nico had been dreading to hear: “If you’re so worried about him...why didn’t you just go after him?”

The question struck Nico like a sword to the ribcage, and Lady could feel Nico’s grip tighten as her whole body tensed up. Lady reluctantly retracted herself from the hug, but she was anything but reluctant when it came to smacking Trish up the side of the head. 

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” Trish yelped in protest. 

“Nico was raised in Nascita, you insensitive little…” Lady bit back the urge to curse her colleague out. “No native Nascitian would ever dare to enter the Valley of the Skull! Seriously, Trish, Devil May Cry has been stationed here for how many years now, and you still didn’t know that?!”

Lady slammed her face into her palm. “I swear, am I the only one who actually reads anything Morrison gives us?”

“Hey, I read the important stuff,” Trish said defensively. “This just...didn’t happen to be part of it.”

Lady groaned before explaining. “It’s considered highly disrespectful to walk on the graves of the departed in Nascitian culture. And since the Valley of the Skull has 2,000 years worth of dead bodies lying around, I think you can put two and two together.”

“I still don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” Trish shrugged. 

Lady was absolutely flabbergasted, at this point. “You—!”

“No...she’s right,” Nico piped in suddenly, her gaze dropped to the floor. “It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Nero’s like a brother to me, and I shouldn’t have let some stupid urban legend stop me from helpin’ him. But all I did was run away and wallow in pity...like a damn coward.”

Lady recoiled for only a moment, however, before she wrapped her arm around Nico’s right shoulder and pulled her in close. 

“Your upbringing doesn’t make you a coward,” Lady assured her. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed of respecting the customs you’ve been taught to respect. No one expects you to compromise on those beliefs.” 

“We don’t?” Trish raised an eyebrow.

After yet another forceful smack from her partner, Trish quickly corrected herself. “I mean...of course we don’t.” 

Nico’s tears began to subside once more, although her expression was far from happy. She took another sip of hot tea, but it had long since gone cold, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth — just like everything else that had happened over the past few days.

“I appreciate the support, y’all, I really do,” Nico sighed forlornly. “But I just don’t know what’ll happen…”

Trish fidgeted a bit in her seat. She knew she needed to say something, but she wasn’t quite sure how to say it. Eventually, though, she threw those worries aside and placed a tender hand on Nico’s left shoulder, mirroring Lady. She may as well give this whole ‘comforting’ thing a shot. 

“It’s natural for you to be afraid right now,” Trish told her. “But remember...Nero’s afraid, too. He’s aware that he’s not in the best place mentally right now, and he’s afraid of hurting the ones he loves. Taking that into account, he’s already light years ahead of where Vergil was at his lowest.”

When Nico gave Trish an inquiring look, Trish continued: “Now, is running off into a suicide valley the way to solve it? Hell no. But we all know that practicality is not in the Sparda gene pool. As stupid and reckless as it sounds — and it is, don’t get me wrong — Nero probably thought that isolating himself was the best way to keep you safe, and to process his emotions.”

Nico sniffled and looked into Trish’s eyes. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Trish replied. “Believe me, I’ve been around Dante long enough; I know how backwards his family’s logic is. But it’s like I said earlier: it’s not like Nero to ever give up. If he said in his note that he’ll come back, he will. I can guarantee it.” 

Finally, after what felt like a million years, Nico felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards into a small smile. That’s exactly what she needed to hear. “Thanks, y’all.” 

“The Sparda clan is known to be stubborn,” Lady added. “But they can, and have, persevered through anything. We’ll just have to trust that Nero knows what he’s doing.” 

* * *

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” Nero cried out in exasperation. 

V, Nero, and Umbra had returned to the cliffside about 20 minutes ago, per Nero’s request. During that time, V had been trying (keyword: trying) to help guide Nero into activating his Devil Trigger on command. However, unlike sealing the Hell Breach, going into DT took far more energy than they expected, and Nero’s not-so-fiery-anymore inner hellfire sure wasn’t helping matters. No matter what method they tried, Nero simply couldn’t summon enough demonic energy to transform. 

V attempted to calm Nero down yet again before his frustration got the best of him. “It’s okay, calm down. You can do this. Trust me, if you could—“

“ _‘If you could summon enough demon energy to close the Hell Breach, then you can also do this.’_ ” Nero finished V’s sentence for him, parroting the worn-out advice in a bitter, mocking tone. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I heard you the first 20 times.”

Nero was becoming more and more flustered with each failed attempt, but since V was so adamant on keeping Nero as calm as possible, he couldn’t use his building frustration to help fuel the fire. Naturally, this only managed to piss Nero off even more, and by the 20-minute mark, he was on the verge of going ballistic. 

“I’m just trying to help, Nero,” V reminded him, trying his hardest to keep his tone light. Even the levelheaded sorcerer was having his patience tested by Nero’s attitude.

“Yeah, well, it’s not working,” Nero snapped in response. “Going into DT is way different from just channeling energy into my sword arm, V. I can’t just ‘channel’ demonic energy into every freaking vein in my body! I told you, I just don’t have enough juice.”

“But this doesn’t make sense,” V countered, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to put two and two together. “You’ve obviously done it before...”

“Yeah, when I was pissed off!” Nero snorted sarcastically. “But now I’m not, and it’s screwing everything up!”

Nero began to pace back and forth, practically pulling his hair from the roots. “For years, I used all of my pent-up anger to fuel my demonic energy. But I’m not angry like I was before. Now I’m just upset, and I’m crying all the time, and I feel like a failure, and I’m letting everyone down, and...ugh! Everything’s just falling apart!”

Sighing dejectedly, Nero collapsed on the ground and sprawled himself out in the grass, staring glumly up at the sky. 

“I don’t get it. What’s wrong with me?” Nero asked himself dauntingly, burying his face in his hands. “I came into this valley — what? — 8 hours ago? And all I had to do then was _breathe_ in the wrong direction, and I went into batshit demon overdrive! But now that I actually don’t hate my life and everything in it for once, I can’t summon it at all? What kind of bullshit is this? I know that God hates me, but is this really the thanks I get for not wanting to fucking die already?!”

“Calm yourself, Emo,” Umbra said dryly. 

“Nero,” Nero corrected Umbra. 

“Debatable,” Umbra replied snidely.

V gave his familiar the harshest of glares; had they not shared the pain they inflicted on one another, he would’ve taken his staff and cracked the panther’s skull open.

“Would it kill you to show some sympathy for once?” V chastised the demon. “You’re not helping!”

“Hmph. It’s not like you’re helping either, Sherlock,” Umbra grumbled. 

V scoffed at the panther. “I’ve been giving Nero advice for 20 minutes!” 

“Yeah, the wrong kind!” Umbra replied scathingly. “You’re a sorcerer, remember? You don’t even have a Devil Trigger! Your skillset is entirely different from a traditional Devil Hunter’s; applying your methods of summoning demon blood to Nero is like comparing apples to oranges.”

V opened his mouth to argue, but he knew his familiar was right, and he quickly snapped it shut again. 

“You’re right. We’ve been approaching this all wrong.” V sighed and retracted, acknowledging his fault.

V looked down at Nero, who still laid prostrate against the ground in defeat. “How about you take a break? In the meantime, I’ll try to come up with a different strategy.”

“Sure, whatever,” Nero replied glumly.

V nodded before returning his gaze to his familiar. “Umbra, can you stay here and keep Nero company? I’ll be over by the cliff’s edge if you need me.”

“Sure, whatever,” Umbra shrugged, inadvertently mirroring Nero’s response.

V seemed to take notice of this as he turned around to leave. When it came to their temper and attitude, he observed, Nero and Umbra were startlingly similar. V quickly shook the thought from his head, however, and trekked off to the cliff’s edge. He had more important things to think about than what his asshole familiar and his moody colleague had in common. 

The sun had risen high in the morning sky by now, and V stared out into the vast expanse beyond the cliffside as he brainstormed. V ran his fingers through his hair yet again, his mind running at a mile a minute as he attempted to piece everything together. He really wasn’t an expert on any of this; the fact that everyone was expecting him to solve Nero’s DT problem was daunting, to say the least. It was like Umbra said earlier: V didn’t even have a Devil Trigger, so how the hell would he know what to do? Nero’s demonic energy was totally different from his own…

While V was busy contemplating over the cliffside, Nero stared down at his right arm with a contemplative look of his own. Although his Devil Bringer was long gone, he did grow his arm back as a result of unlocking his Devil Trigger. Maybe there was more to this miraculous regeneration than he had previously thought. 

Recalling the battles he had fought following the Qliphoth incident, Nero remembered that his arm dissolved into a strange spectral energy whenever he equipped Nico’s Devil Breakers. This spectral energy, Nero realized with a start, was the exact same energy that formed his Bringer Claws.

This gave Nero an idea: if he could dissolve his arm and reform it every time he equipped and unequipped Devil Breakers, who’s to say he couldn’t use the same method to summon his Bringer Claws? After all, out of all the abilities Nero had lost control over during the last month, summoning and unsummoning his regenerative arm was the one thing he could still do perfectly. It was far from a cure-all solution, of course — merely an alternate method of summoning his spectral arms — but, at this point, any solution was better than none.

Taking in a deep, slow breath, Nero closed his eyes and focused. He pictured the strange spectral energy in his mind, and he tried his best to summon it. Finally, after almost a minute of concentration, Nero could sense the spectral energy cackling in his body, and a triumphant grin found its way onto Nero’s face. He was halfway into directing the energy towards his shoulder blades when a sudden scream from Umbra broke Nero's concentration.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Umbra shouted, forcing Nero to open his eyes. “Nero, what did you do?!”

“I haven’t done anything yet!” Nero’s eyes snapped open and glared at Umbra in annoyance. “Since your big fat mouth broke my focu—“

“You call THAT not doing anything?!” Umbra screeched, his eyes wide open in a rare sense of panic. 

The panther whipped out his tendril arm and latched onto Nero’s elbow. Nero opened his mouth to protest, but when Umbra brought his arm up for Nero to see, any insult he was about to throw in his direction vanished in an instant.

Well, he did manage to summon the spectral energy; Nero had to give himself credit for that. But all he did was dissolve his right arm, which now ended abruptly at his elbow. Given how neither Umbra nor V knew about Nero’s arm injury, nor had they ever seen him fight with Devil Breakers, he could understand the panther’s confusion.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to do that,” Nero cursed quietly, so as to not garner V’s attention. “Don’t worry, I can fix this.”

“Don’t worry? DON’T WORRY?!” Umbra had fortunately lowered his voice, but he still managed to scream harshly at Nero, even when his voice was little more than a whisper. “YOU’RE MISSING YOUR ARM!” 

“Yes, I know that,” Nero groaned indignantly. “Now keep it down, will you? V will hear us!” 

But Umbra was still far from calm about any of this, and a hushed screaming match soon broke out between the two.

“How the hell are you being so calm about this?!”

“Relax, dammit! It’s happened plenty of times before!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IT’S HAPPENED BEFORE?!”

“I told you to quit screaming!”

“YOU’RE MISSING YOUR GODDAMN ARM!”

“I told you already, I can fix this! Now shut up and let me FOCUS!” 

“Ahhh shit, I think V’s almost done...hurry up, kid, bring it back! BRING IT BACK!” 

“YOU THINK I’M NOT TRYING?” 

“NERO!!”

“CALM DOWN, DAMMIT! I’M ALMOST DONE!“

“HE’S TURNING AROUND!“

“I TOLD YOU, I’M ALMOST—!”

In that exact moment, V turned around and faced the pair. Thankfully, he didn’t overhear their desperately hushed conversation, although he did hear his familiar and colleague making a huge racket. Still, Nero and Umbra panicked when V saw them, and they both tried their best to act natural: Nero with a forced smile on his face and his half-reformed arm hidden behind his back, and Umbra standing suspiciously close to Nero in a further attempt to conceal his right arm.

V furrowed his brow in confusion. “Uh...are you two doing all right?”

“Yeah! Everything's fine!” Umbra said just a little too quickly, his voice far too perky to legitimately be his own.

V was perplexed by how unusually chipper the panther sounded, and thankfully, his confusion bought Nero enough time to summon his arm back fully. By the time V had recovered from his initial shock and opened his mouth to question Umbra further, Nero stood up and clasped his hands together firmly — both as a way of changing the subject and to signal to Umbra that his arm was back to normal. 

“Okay, I think we’re ready to start up again,” Nero said hastily, before V could voice his suspicions any further. “What did you come up with, V?” 

V gave Nero and Umbra a concerned look, but he eventually shook it off and answered.

“Well, I figured we should start by walking you through your Devil Trigger,” V began. “You know, like what we did to figure out the Hell Breach. If we can figure out how you summoned your DT in the first place, we can compare it to how you summon it now.”

“It took you five minutes just to think of that?” Umbra raised a judging eyebrow. 

“As I was saying,“ V shot his familiar yet another glare. “Walk me through your first DT real quick. What were the circumstances that made it activate? What was going through your mind as it was happening?”

“God, I don’t know,” Nero groaned in response. “It was right after the Qliphoth battle, and it was more of a reflex than anything. Believe me, I was already preoccupied with keeping my batshit crazy father and woohoo pizza uncle from killing each other. Figuring out how I randomly grew my arm back and went into DT was honestly the least of my worries.”

Nero began to pace back and forth again as he continued to rant. “But I haven’t been able to summon it ever since — not without losing my shit, anyhow. After I confronted Dante and fought against Vergil...and after watching them leave...I just couldn’t activate it like I did before. For awhile, I couldn’t summon it, at all. I finally managed to summon it again yesterday...but I can only do it when I’m pissed off, and I don’t know why.”

V nodded his head understandingly. “All right, let’s work our way backwards, then. How do you summon your demonic energy right now? What does it feel like normally?”

Nero honestly had no idea where V was going with this, but he shrugged and explained it to the best of his ability. “I guess it feels like...a fire? Or a storm? Something like that.” 

Nero made a bunch of vague hand gestures as he struggled to put his thoughts into words. 

“And it does this thing where it gets all…you know...” Nero made a hand gesture somewhat reminiscent of an explosion or a roaring fire. “Whatever that feels like...deep down in my chest. It’s constantly doing that, by the way. Not sure if I mentioned that. And sometimes, it feels like it’s…ergh…” 

Nero groaned slightly as he struggled to think of the word. “Scratching? Clawing? Something like that? Whatever it is, it’s definitely trying to break free. You know what I’m getting at, right?”

V’s eyebrows were furrowed as he strained to translate Nero’s vague ramblings, but he more or less got the general idea, so he nodded his head in response. “Yeah, I think so.”

Nero continued without missing a beat: “And when I summon it, it’s like someone’s turning a— God, what is that thing called? The little spinny wheel in, like, pipes and stuff?”

“A pressure valve?” Umbra raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that!” Nero replied. “It like turning a pressure valve, and it forces some of the energy out.” 

Umbra was absolutely dumbfounded at Nero’s response, but V seemed to be following along well enough to get the gist of it. 

“Okay, that makes sense,” V nodded his head. “Now, follow-up question: how does it feel when you summon your Devil Trigger right now? How is that any different?”

Nero briefly recalled his battle against the demon horde with Nico, when he summoned his Devil Trigger for the first time in almost a month, and he couldn’t help but flinch. He didn’t mess up as badly then as he did during the Hydra battle, but the guilt still managed to eat at him. 

Nevertheless, Nero shook the thought from his head and tried his best to explain. 

“I think it’s like...like the fire just keeps growing, and there’s no way to release the pressure. It keeps building up and getting more and more violent, until it’s too much to hold back anymore. Then it just...bursts.” Nero made an explosion-like hand gesture to emphasize. “All this energy breaks free at once, and suddenly every vein in my body is coursing with it.”

Nero smiled a bit as he raved about his first few moments in DT, when he first felt the demonic energy tip the balance in his soul, and when he first felt himself transform. “It’s amazing, at first. It feels like you’re in a head rush — adrenaline, you know? — like you just got off the sickest roller coaster ever built. You have all this power pumping through your veins, and it makes you feel...unstoppable!”

Nero’s smile began to fade, however, when he recalled what happened next. “But then, the anger starts kicking in, and it shuts off all of my senses. I can’t think, see, or even hear properly. It’s like everything turns into static in my ears, and all I can see is...red. Red and whatever it is I’m trying to fight. I have no control over what’s going on...it’s like my brain goes on autopilot, or something.”

Nero shook his head bitterly. “And when I start to run out of energy, I crash and burn. I feel so drained afterwards...it’s like I can barely move.” 

V digested this for a moment, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair out of habit. 

“It almost sounds like your anger...consumes you,” V reasoned. “You’re releasing way too much power at once, and adding those negative emotions into the mix...it starts to overpower your reasoning. I think that’s why you lose control; your anger shuts off your sense of reason, and when you’re in that state, you’re purely driven by instinct.” 

But Nero merely scoffed at V’s so-called conclusion. 

“Duh! You think I haven’t figured that out by now?!” Nero slammed his face into his palm. “I’m pretty sure losing my shit is the exact opposite of being in control! But I wouldn’t need to do any of this, if I just knew how to summon the damn energy without pissing myself off first!” 

Nero groaned and plopped back down onto the grass once more, slumping his shoulders dejectedly. 

V frowned a bit as he looked down at his colleague. Nero’s past was nothing short of complicated — even V knew that. The longer he spent time with Nero, however, the more V realized just how much his partner had gone through in such a short amount of time. Within the last month, he had lost his father and his uncle — and, up until last night, he had lost V, too. It was no wonder why Nero had that mental breakdown last night; in all honesty, V was amazed it didn’t happen sooner. 

As V recalled what Nero had told him earlier, however — that he had kept his father and uncle from killing one another — he knew there had to be a solution. So, despite Nero’s growing discontent, V persisted, asking Nero one last follow-up question. 

“Okay, now think back to your first DT again. What were you feeling then?” V inquired. 

“I told you, I don’t know,” Nero groaned in response. Was there an echo out here? 

“Just think about it for a minute,” V insisted. “What was going through your mind during the battle that day? What was so special about that mission that gave you your Devil Trigger, in the first place? Think about it.”

As much as it pained him to do so, Nero nodded and began to think back to that battle — a battle that he had shoved into the darkest tresses of his mind for over a month, now, all in a vain effort to cope. Why did he return to the Qliphoth that day? He was still angry beyond all hell at his father, so why did he care if he lived or died? He was still angry at Dante for calling him dead weight, so how did he throw that petty grudge aside? The roots of their sibling rivalry were planted decades before the Qliphoth, so why was Nero so adamant on uprooting them?

Suddenly, it hit Nero like a ton of bricks. “I felt like...I had to do anything, whatever it takes, to keep Dante and Vergil alive.” 

Nero relayed his racing thoughts to V. “Trust me, I was still mad as hell at my dad...but I know it wasn’t hatred or spite that unlocked my Devil Trigger that day, or else I would’ve just gone apeshit like I do now. I think I unlocked it because…”

Nero’s eyes widened when he realized it. “...Because I didn’t want that dumb rivalry of theirs to end in blood. As much as they pissed me off, they were still my family...and I didn’t want to lose them. I just wanted all of us to start over — to just come together and be the family we were always meant to be, but never had the chance to have. I just…”

Nero’s voice grew unusually quiet. “...I just wanted to make things right somehow.”

Normally, V would’ve knelt down and placed a comforting hand on Nero’s shoulder, accompanied by some soothing words that would hopefully make him feel better. But instead of his heart aching with compassion, his green eyes illuminated with excitement, as the solution finally became clear.

“Nero, I think I’ve figured it out!” V announced, grinning down at his partner. 

All at once, Nero hopped to his feet, every last sign of frustration or confusion vanishing from his face in an instant. “Really?” 

“Yes!” V nodded his head earnestly. “It all makes sense now. After the Qliphoth incident, the only way you knew how to summon all that raw power was through anger, which worked to an extent. But it wasn’t anger that gave you your Devil Trigger that day…”

V grasped Nero’s arms and looked straight into his eyes. “...It was passion!” 

Nero was completely flustered by this, his face rapidly turning a deep shade of scarlet as he awkwardly retracted himself from V’s grip. “Uhhh...what?” 

“Not that kind of passion, you pervert!” V smacked Nero none-too-gently on the shoulder before continuing. “The other kind! You know, like a strong motivation or desire to do something, or something that drives you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the same thing.” Nero grinned smugly. He knew what V meant, at this point, but now he was just pressing his buttons.

“You know what I meant.” V rolled his eyes, although a small smile found its way onto his face.

V gave Nero a playful shove before returning to the topic at hand. “Now, get your head out of the gutter and focus. I want you to try and summon your demonic energy again, but this time, I want you to focus on passion: what drives you, what motivates you to go out and fight demons every day, whatever is your true reason for fighting. If you use this to fuel the fire instead of anger, it should keep your head grounded, and you’ll stay in control.”

Nero was skeptical at first, but he eventually nodded and closed his eyes. Taking in a deep, slow breath, he turned his mind’s eye inward and focused, digging deep to figure out what drove him as a Devil Hunter. 

He knew there had to be more to what he did every day than just punching demons in the face. He wasn’t putting himself through hell and pushing himself to the limit for fun. He didn’t do this for the money, or to fulfill some unspoken promise to his father or uncle. He wasn’t a devil hunter because he was obligated to be one, or because of his heritage. He knew there was something important that drove him to become a Devil Hunter, something unique to him and him alone — he had just been foolish enough to forget it. 

Eventually, his mind wandered back to his very first Devil Trigger in Fortuna, back when it was little more than a spectral avatar copying his every move. It was almost five years ago, now — long before he even knew that Vergil existed, let alone that he was his son. Something drove him to activate that Devil Trigger, also, but Dante and Vergil hardly meant anything to him back then. What was driving him before the Qliphoth incident, before his life had turned into a living nightmare?

He recalled the last few moments before his DT activated, when the Yamato first fused with his Devil Bringer. He remembered how his arm seemed to scream for more power, not unlike his father’s power-hungry cries as Urizen. But he didn’t care about power — not like Vergil did. 

Suddenly, the thoughts that were racing through his head five years ago came rushing back in an instant, echoing as strong and clear as the day it happened. 

_/“...If I became a demon, so be it. I will endure the exile. Anything to protect her.”/_

His mind then shifted to Kyrie, his lover, his rock, and it finally became clear. 

In an instant, his inner storm came roaring back to life, filling every inch of his soul with a fire too strong to ignore. For once, the hellstorm didn’t scrabble away at his being, clawing at the edges of his soul and screaming to get out. For once, the hellfire didn’t burn ragingly inside of him, threatening to consume everything in its path. Instead, it flooded his soul with an abundance of warmth and light, filling him with a sense of determination and passion he had been yearning to find. For the first time in over a month — no, the first time _ever_ — he truly felt in control, both inside and out. 

“It wasn’t passion that gave me my Devil Trigger…” Nero’s eyes snapped open in an instant, taking on a warm yellow glow as he grinned triumphantly at V. “It was love!” 

Within seconds, he summoned enough energy to tip the balance in his soul, and he felt his form begin to change. All at once, that familiar spectral energy surrounded him, greeting him like an old friend. When the light finally faded, he stood as the quarter-demon he truly was — and this time, he was completely in control. 

Nero grinned ear-to-ear as he looked down at his DT form, truly taking it in for the first time. He clenched and unclenched his fists, extending and retracting his claws. He delicately traced his fingers over the blue veins in his arms — they looked just like his Devil Bringer! — and he honestly thought he would cry. He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length white hair, laughing at how different it felt, and he felt his hands brush up against his feather-like horns. Lastly, he took in his Bringer Claws, extending out past his shoulders and radiating an iridescent blue light. He had never been so happy to see his DT before; in fact, he was overjoyed. 

Finally, he simply couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He whooped in celebration and flew straight up into the sky, doing a backflip in mid-air before landing on the ground between V and Umbra. Finally, after spending all of this time stumbling in the dark, he remembered what he was putting himself through hell for, and everything else was finally starting to fall back into place. He could feel it. 

“Yes! You did it!” V exclaimed, his green eyes glistening with excitement. 

V slung his arms around Nero and hugged him excitedly, taking Nero by surprise; he honestly didn’t expect V to be this much of a hugger. Then again, Nero considered, this wasn’t the same V he knew a month ago, either. 

Eventually, Nero gave in and returned the favor, pulling V (and Umbra, much to his discontent) into a group hug with his Bringer Claws.

“Nero, that was amazing!” V congratulated him, smiling wholeheartedly.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, partner.” Nero replied with a grin.

“Put me down before I bite you,” Umbra glowered, his ears pulled back in annoyance. 

Nero laughed and reverted to his human form with ease, the demonic energy receding back into his soul without question, until only his spectral arms remained. Finally, Nero released V and Umbra and retracted from the hug, resting his Bringer Claws on his shoulders.

Noticing the iridescent winged claws folded down Nero’s back, V gave his partner an inquisitive look. “Hey, why do you still have your little...claw things?”

“Eh, just felt like keeping them out,” Nero shrugged nonchalantly. 

“So you can use them outside of DT, too?” V laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, I may have only been a devil hunter for an hour, but that is Smokin’ Sexy Style if I’ve ever seen it.”

Nero snorted in response. The dissonance of hearing the poetry nerd say “Smokin’ Sexy Style” was honestly the funniest thing ever to him. V tried his best to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t help it; he laughed, too. 

“I didn’t realize that your DT claws also doubled as wings,” V commented, once he regained his composure. “Have you ever tried flying with them in your human form?” 

“Not really,” Nero replied casually, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve never really flown with them at all, now that I think about it. Never had a reason to, honestly.”

V laughed in a spastic sort of way. “Nero, you can literally FLY. Who cares if there’s a reason or not? You’re literally living one of mankind’s biggest dreams; you may as well enjoy it.”

Nero paused to consider this for a moment. Now that V mentioned it, using his Bringer Claws to fly did sound pretty sick, especially in human form...and this gave him an idea. 

Nero’s eyes trailed back towards V suddenly, and he gave his partner a devilish smirk. 

V chuckled nervously. “Hehe...why are you looking at me like that?”

* * *

“Nero, I change my mind! This is a bad idea!” V yelped. 

Nero was forcefully dragging his partner towards the cliff’s edge, his grip on V’s right arm stronger than steel. 

“Relax, will you?” Nero laughed off V’s panicked protests. “Geez, for such a tall and scary-looking goth dude, you sure are a scaredy cat.” 

“Well, excuse me for not wanting to fall to my death!” V replied spastically, trying and failing to counter Nero’s pull. _/Sheesh, this guy’s strong.../_

“Oh, come on! You used to use Griffon to fly around all the time!” Nero insisted. 

“I also have no memory of Griffon,” V countered. “And even if I did, I’m pretty sure they had more flight experience than you.” 

“Come on, V, you can trust me!” Nero bargained. They were about 20 feet away from the cliff’s edge, at this point. “Now stop fighting already, or else I won’t get a good running start and we WILL fall to our deaths.”

V eventually obeyed and stopped straining against Nero’s grip, though a panicked whimper did manage to briefly escape his lips. He was hoping he’d recover his memory _before_ he met his maker, so at least he would remember who that was...

Without even so much as a warning, Nero sprinted towards the dropoff, dragging poor V along behind him. Panicking, V dropped his cane and grabbed onto Nero’s arm with both hands, screaming at Nero to slow down. Nero didn’t pay it much mind, however, as he extended his Bringer Claws in anticipation. 

When they at last reached the edge of the cliff, Nero jumped, kicking off the ground and into the air. V screamed and hung on for dear life, closing his eyes fearfully. They dropped for a fraction of a second before Nero gave his spectral wings a powerful flap, and soon they were rapidly gaining altitude.

Nero laughed wholeheartedly as he soared through the air, feeling the warm sunlight hit his face and the wind rustle his hair. He couldn’t believe it took him this long to do it; the pure rush of adrenaline he got from flying was the greatest feeling in the world. The same couldn’t be said for V, however, whose eyes were still squeezed shut as he clung to Nero’s arm with a death grip. 

Nero rolled his eyes and jerked his arm slightly, causing V to yelp. “Come on, you chicken. Open your eyes already! You’re missing the view!”

Reluctantly, V warily opened his eyes and looked out at the vast expanse below them. They could see the entire northern half of the valley from up here, covered in trees and sculpted by creeks and rivers. Up ahead in the distance, Sapere City could be seen in all of its beauty, perfectly framed by the mountains to their left and right. It really was beautiful, V admitted, and it helped calm him down a little.

“Remember what you said earlier about enjoying the simple things?” Nero let out a lighthearted chuckle. “I think I’m finally starting to figure that out.”

“Glad to hear it,” V replied, although his panic attack had far from subsided. “Now can you please put me back on the ground?!”

“Come on, V! Whatever happened to living in the moment?” Nero teased. 

V gulped and looked down at the treetops several hundred feet below them. “Just be careful, all right?”

“Don’t worry,” Nero grinned smugly at his colleague, mirroring V’s words from a battle he no longer remembered. “I’ll be gentle.”

Little did his partner realize, however, that the devilish smirk on Nero’s face meant that he had an idea, and that idea was anything but gentle. 

Unfortunately, V didn’t seem to notice the hint of sarcasm in Nero’s voice, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God—“ 

Without even so much as a warning, Nero folded his wings and dropped down suddenly, before V could even finish his sentence. 

“—DAMMIT, NERO!” V screamed, his heart leaping into his throat. 

“Relax,” Nero laughed before pulling up to do a 360. “This is the best part!” 

Nero proceeded to do all sorts of flips, tricks, and aerial maneuvers, leaving poor V screaming and hanging on for dear life. For an adrenaline junkie like Nero, he was having the time of his life. For someone who isn’t an adrenaline junkie, however — such as V — all he had was his life flashing before his eyes.

When Nero felt like he had tortured V enough, he finally let up a bit, and eventually he landed back down on the cliffside. Even with both feet planted firmly on the ground, V was practically shaking in his sandals, his heart hammering in his chest and his eyes bulging from their sockets. 

Nero, being the cheeky bastard that he is, just couldn’t help but ask: “See? Wasn’t that fun?”

V looked Nero dead in the eyes and said yet another thing Nero never thought he’d hear him say: “Kiss my ass.” 

Eventually, however, the two managed to laugh it off, and they both turned to face the valley.

“So, now that you’re back in control,” V raised an inquiring eyebrow in Nero’s direction. “Ready to head back to Red Grave?” 

Nero smiled slightly. “Yeah...I think I am.” 

And so, with Umbra in tow, Nero and V turned southward and entered the valley once again, ready to continue their journey.


	12. Road to Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Uh...Emily? Wasn't there 3 sections to Chapter 12? Where did the third section go?_
> 
> Yep! And I nuked it! :D
> 
> _...Why?_
> 
> I'm finally in the right mental head-space to write Chapter 13, and after finishing the first draft of Section 1 I realized that this section of Chapter 12 is no longer required.
> 
> _Does that mean that Chapter 13 is finally coming??_
> 
> HELL YEAH BOI!!!! I'm excited too. :D
> 
> _Does that mean section 3 of Chapter 12 was technically a spoiler...?_
> 
> Nope! Absolutely nothing about that section can prepare you for what I have in store for Chapter 13! 
> 
> _...I'm scared now._
> 
> You should be. *ominous laughter*

Over the next four hours, the trio made their way through the southern half of the Valley of the Skull, weaving their way around the countless trees and gingerly avoiding the half-buried skeletons. Red Grave City, located just 30 miles south of Tumult City, was less than a day’s journey away, and this realization filled V with so much anticipation that he could hardly stand still. At last, after stumbling in the dark for so long, V could see the light at the end of the tunnel; the key to unlocking his past was finally within reach. How could he not be excited? 

Nero, on the other hand, couldn’t help but grow worried as they drew ever closer to their destination. He never told V the truth about his identity, after all, let alone his relation to Nero; how will V handle it when he discovers this crushing reality for himself? 

Finally, the group emerged from the Valley of the Skull and entered the Northwest outskirts of Tumult City. As soon the rest stop came into view, however, mental snapshots of the town’s devastating destruction came bubbling back up to the surface of Nero’s mind, and all at once he froze in his tracks. 

V and Umbra didn’t seem to notice, at first, and they continued to move forward. After a few steps, however, V quickly realized that Nero was no longer keeping pace beside him, and he immediately came to a stop. Worriedly, V turned to face his partner, and all it took was one look at Nero’s paling face to know that something was definitely wrong.

“Nero?” V approached Nero slowly, his voice edged with concern. “Nero, what’s wrong?”

“The Hell Breach,” Nero muttered under his breath, his voice so low that V could barely hear it. 

V furrowed his brow in confusion. “What—?”

“I FORGOT ABOUT THE HELL BREACH!” Nero exclaimed suddenly, snapping his head around to face the small patch of wilderness to the south.

Before V could even begin to respond, Nero broke out into a devil sprint, zipping across the rest stop in a matter of seconds and disappearing into the thicket of oak trees. 

Groaning slightly, V climbed onto Umbra’s back and chased after Nero, using the massive panther’s long and fast strides to keep pace. But even when his feline companion’s size and speed rivaled that of a lion’s, V still struggled to keep up. Nero’s footsteps were fueled by adrenaline, at this point, and his pace was so inhumanly fast that he practically left skid marks in the grass.

Finally, Nero screeched to a halt in front of the infamous Hell Breach, just as large and intimidating as it was the day he had formed it. V brought his familiar to a stop behind him and quickly dismounted, his eyes scaling upwards at the massive breach in shock. Even Umbra was alarmed by how big this thing was — an almost perfect circle spanning over 50 feet in diameter.

_“This_ is the Hell Breach?” V’s jaw dropped in shock, surprise, horror...mostly horror. 

“Unfortunately,” Nero replied gravely, avoiding V’s gaze out of guilt. “A Red Zone. One of the biggest breaches on record.”

“You can still fix it, right?” V asked worriedly, craning his neck upwards at the massive demon portal.

Nero unsheathed his melee weapon and touched it against the edge of the Hell Breach. “Looks like I don’t have a choice.”

Recalling V’s advice from earlier, Nero closed his eyes and focused on his inner storm. The fire in his soul burned as strongly and brightly as ever, but it didn’t try to escape; rather, it waited patiently and obediently to be summoned, like a sled dog awaiting its master’s commands. It was an odd feeling for Nero — to no longer be at war with his own power — but it was definitely something he could get used to. Grinning slightly, Nero summoned the demonic energy effortlessly and channeled it into Red Queen, coating his melee weapon with power. 

Just as it had four hours before, the human-hell barrier became visible to the unaided eye, revealing a veil-like wall of demonic runes that dwarfed even the Hell Breach in size. As Nero continued to feed his demonic energy into Red Queen, the gossamer white veil began to glow an iridescent purple, and the barrier slowly stitched itself closed. 

However, even when Nero was in total control, the sheer size of the Hell Breach pushed his powers to the limit. The breach was about 50% contained when Nero felt his energy levels begin to drop, and it was at 75% containment when he physically began to sweat. Nero could feel his demonic energy reserves draining, but still he refused to falter, instead digging ever deeper within him to keep his inner fire ablaze.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the barrier repaired itself fully. As soon as the barrier faded from view, Nero hunched over in exhaustion, dropping his sword as he struggled to catch his breath. A feeling of lightheadedness threatened to overcome him, but he stubbornly fought to ignore it. He couldn’t afford to go down now; his work had only just begun. 

“Nero, are you okay?” V asked finally, slowly approaching Nero and placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“I’m fine,” Nero replied adamantly, batting off V’s arm in annoyance before turning eastward. “But we need to get to Tumult City, ASAP.” 

V recoiled slightly when Nero threw his hand off of him, though he tried his best to keep his expression sober. “What? Why? I thought we were heading straight for Red Grave…”

“Change of plans,” Nero answered hastily, though he didn’t explain why. 

Without even so much as a warning, Nero impulsively snatched V’s cane from his hands and held it out in front of him, scanning it across the landscape and shaking it furiously when it refused to respond. 

“Hey! What are you doing?!” V shrieked in protest, flailing his arms a bit as he scrambled to take back the staff. “Give that back!” 

Nero ignored V’s outcries and stubbornly held him back with a stiffarm, keeping the staff just out of V’s reach as he attempted to activate the tracking signal. “Come on, you stupid stick, work already!”

A petty fight soon broke out between the two of them, as V struggled to steal back his staff and Nero continued to block him. It looked rather ridiculous, honestly, to see two grown men in their early 20’s fighting over a cane like toddlers. 

Umbra couldn’t help but snicker as he watched the scene unfold. He knew he should probably intervene and break up the fight...but this was just too hilarious. 

Eventually, V managed to grab hold of the staff on one end, Nero refusing to let go on the other, turning the already immature scuffle into a pointless game of tug-of-war.

“Nero, what are you trying to do?” V demanded, yanking the cane towards him. 

“I need to track down the Hydra,” Nero explained curtly, countering V’s pulling with a forceful tug of his own. “I can’t let it destroy the city any more than it already has!”

“You need to track down WHAT?!” V cried incredulously, though his grip on the staff remained firm. 

“The Hydra!” Nero repeated firmly, before struggling against V’s grip once more. “And since I’m the only one who’s seen it, I’m the only one who can track it down. Now hand it over!”

“That’s not even how the spell works, you ignorant loon!” V snapped in response, his patience quickly growing thin. “Now give me back my staff before I stun you with it!”

With one last forceful tug, V finally managed to snatch the cane from Nero, and the sheer force nearly sent Nero sprawling into the grass. 

V slung his cane over his right shoulder and glared coolly at Nero, his left hand placed firmly on his hip. “Nero, you still haven’t explained anything. Why is there a Hydra in Tumult City? How do you know about it? And how did you know about the Hell Breach?” 

“Look, it’s a long story,” Nero huffed. “I don’t want to get into it right now. It was...before we met…” 

Nero furiously shook the thought from his head before he could dwell on it, however, and he quickly met V’s stern glare with a harsh gaze of his own. “But that’s not the point. The point is, it’s my fault that this happened, and it’s my responsibility to fix it.”

“But Nero, we need to get to the ferry service before it closes at sundown. If we stick around here for too long, it’ll set back our journey by a whole day!” V protested. 

“The Qliphoth can wait another day,” Nero reminded him. “But the people in this city can’t! They’re in danger, V, just like the people in Red Grave were. Vergil may have been fine with skipping off into Hell and avoiding the consequences of his actions...but I am nothing like Vergil, and I will NEVER be like him. And this is my chance to prove it.”

“But why do you need to prove that?” V was genuinely confused at this point. 

Nero opened his mouth to argue, but V continued before he could respond. “Nero, just listen to me for a second. There’s no point in arguing about any of this. All I know is that something’s been bugging you since the moment we got here, and I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

A small pang of guilt crept its way onto Nero’s face, causing his newfound confidence to falter. He really didn’t want to admit it to V — not after all the progress he had made — but he knew he had to tell him sooner or later.

Finally, with a long and shuddering sigh, Nero reluctantly began: 

“V...remember what I said earlier this morning? About the Hell Breach in the clearing...and how that wasn’t the first time it’s happened?”

V’s expression softened a bit, and he nodded silently in reply.

“Well…this was the first time.” 

Nero bit his lip and shamefully tore his gaze away from his colleague. He couldn’t bear to look V in the eyes — no, not after all he had done to help him.

“The truth is, V...I’m the one who opened that Hell Breach. I’m the one who let the Hydra get loose. And...I’m the one who…”

Nero winced slightly, as if bracing himself for an impact. 

“...You know what? Why don’t I just show you.”

Before V could respond, Nero abruptly turned eastward and began to trek through the wilderness in silence, his gaze locked firmly at the grass at his feet. V bit his lip nervously and tentatively followed, Umbra following close at his heels. 

Slowly but surely, the three weaved their way through the maze of towering oak trees, making their way towards greater Tumult City. Finally, at around 2:00 PM, they emerged from the patch of wilderness and entered the outer edges of downtown Tumult. However, the moment they laid eyes on the city, everyone except Nero was shocked to see just how far it had fallen.

The already suffering community had gone from bad to worse since Nero was there last. What few neighborhoods remained intact were in deplorable conditions, and practically every building in town that wasn’t already destroyed now bore some sort of damage. The fires had thankfully been tamed since Nero’s last visit, but city-wide power outages and water breaks were still rampant, leaving many of its remaining citizens stranded without water or electricity. Tumult City, which had been struggling to survive before, was now on the brink of total collapse.

They may not have suffered directly from the Qliphoth...but, thanks to Nero’s Hell Breach, they may as well have.

V’s eyes widened with horror as he took in the insurmountable damage. Then his eyes fell on Nero, whose shoulders were slumped over as he hung his head in shame, and his green irises became fragile like glass.

“Nero…” He whispered.

“I was supposed to protect Tumult City,” Nero admitted finally. “But, instead...I’m the one who made it fall.”

V bit his lip and looked away, brushing his shaggy white bangs from his face out of habit. He knew what he needed to say to comfort Nero, but he wasn’t quite sure how to say it…

Finally, V settled on a quote from _Proverbs of Hell_ — unbeknownst to him, the same verse he had told Griffon when faced with a similar situation.

“Well, I know you said that William Blake didn’t make much sense to you…” V began lightly. “But he honestly said it best: _‘He who desires but acts not breeds pestilence.’_ ”

When Nero inevitably gave him a confused look, V quickly added: “‘Pestilence’ refers to something harmful or destructive. Basically, what I’m saying is...if you’re willing to make things right, then you shouldn’t let anything stop you, least of all yourself. Even if you can’t reverse the damage completely...it’s better than making it any worse.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nero’s grave expression began to soften a bit, and he gave his partner a small smile. “Then you understand why I need to do this. Sure, I was in a dark place or whatever when this happened, and I’m not the same person I was before...but that doesn’t excuse what I did.”

Nero looked up at the city in ruins before him, and he narrowed his eyes in determination. 

“That’s the real difference between me and my father. Vergil doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself; he’s never cared about humanity, and he couldn’t care less about how his actions affect them. But no matter how much I stumble and fall, I will never turn my back on the world, and I will never, _ever_ turn my back on people who need me. Because while Vergil fought for power…” 

A lopsided smirk finally found its way onto Nero’s face as he confidently summoned his Bringer Claws, his eyes glowing yellow for just a brief moment before turning to face V.

“...I fight to make things right.” Nero winked.

V smiled warmly at his colleague. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

As if on cue, the Hydra’s unholy screeching sounded through the decimated neighborhood, beckoning their full attention.

“I’ll get us an aerial view,” Nero informed V, spreading his wings in anticipation. “You and Umbra stay at ground level and follow my lead.”

“Sounds good,” V nodded hastily in reply. As long as he didn’t have to endure Nero’s in-flight entertainment, any plan was good enough for him. 

Nero gave his partner a quick nod before soaring up into the air, scanning the city from above in search of the Hydra. V hopped onto Umbra’s back (despite Umbra’s obvious discomfort) as soon as Nero took flight, and when Nero caught sight of the serpentine demon towards the southeast, V promptly followed, steering his familiar towards the demon boss. 

“You know,” Umbra glared at his master, his tired muscles wobbling a bit from the strain. “I get that I’m bigger than most cats of my kind, but that doesn’t make me a damn pack mule.”

“Sorry, buddy.” V smiled apologetically at his familiar as they went along. “Nero’s just way faster than I am, and you do a much better job at keeping pace.”

“The shit I have to put up with…” Umbra grumbled under his breath.

Finally, the devil hunters arrived on the scene, and not a moment too soon; the Hydra was rampaging through one of the last untouched neighborhoods, slamming its eight heads into everything in sight and sending debris flying in all directions. Nero took no time at all jumping onto the offensive, swooping down on one of the heads and sucker-punching it in the jaw with his Bringer Claws. V, on the other hand, was completely taken aback at the sight of the Hydra, and he practically flung himself off of Umbra’s back as he scrambled to reach Nero in time. 

Nero was just seconds away from firing at the nearest basilisk head with Blue Rose when V hastily pulled him aside, nearly tripping over his own heels in the process. Before Nero could even begin to protest, V dragged him into a nearby alleyway and practically threw him against the wall, his green eyes wide with panic. 

“V, what the hell?” Nero tried to duck under V’s arm and escape, but V pinned him down with his cane before he could. “I thought you were helping me fight this thing!”

“‘That thing’ is supposed to have three heads, not eight!” V fired back in reply. “Nero, what did you do?”

“Obviously, he cut off its heads.” Umbra replied snidely, slinking out from his hiding place in the shadows before giving Nero a cynical glare. “You know, like an idiot.”

Nero sneered at the panther. “Well, duh! How else am I supposed to kill it? By cutting off its a—?”

“LOOK OUT!” V cried suddenly. 

Before Nero could react, V dragged him across the alleyway and ducked behind a stray dumpster. In that exact moment, one of the basilisk heads launched itself into the building on the left side of the alley, raining down cinder blocks and heavy cement where they previously stood.

As soon as V knew they were safe, however, he continued to chew Nero out. “Nero, that’s the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to do! Don’t you know anything about how Hydras work?!” 

Another wave of debris came pelting down on the alleyway, and a rather large cinder block crash-landed right next to them, causing both of them to jump. 

“Yeah, I think it’s pretty obvious that the answer is NO!” Nero replied spastically.

V slammed his face into his palm and groaned in frustration. Even when their lives were in imminent danger, the shortage of brain cells in the Sparda clan was as apparent and unnerving as ever.

“For every head a Hydra loses, two more grow in its place!” V tried to explain it as calmly and collectively as he could, though his tone was still edged with exasperation. “Seriously, Nero, didn’t you ever learn about Greek Mythology?”

“Uh, no, I was raised in a cult,” Nero replied snidely. 

Another high-pitched screech from the Hydra sounded from behind them, cutting the argument short. The colossal demon had lost interest in the alleyway, at this point, and now it was quickly slithering towards the opposite end of the street. 

As soon as the coast was clear, the trio tentatively emerged from their hiding spot and returned to the main drag. Thankfully, the Hydra’s back was turned, so it didn’t seem to notice. 

Nero gave V an expectant look. “Okay, wise guy, you’re the Hydra expert here. How do we get rid of this thing?” 

V absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair as he attempted to recall the myth. Like everything else in his amnesia-ridden brain, he knew it was buried in there somewhere...but when it came down to the fine details, his recollection was as clear as mud.

“Okay, let me think…” V mumbled under his breath as he contemplated. “I think it was Heracles — Hercules? No, no, definitely Heracles — who fought the Hydra. And this Hydra seems pretty similar to that one...minus the eight heads, of course.”

V paused for a moment. “...Actually, now that I think about it, maybe it _did_ have more than three heads. I don’t think it had eight though...maybe it was seven? Or was it nine? Yeah, nine sounds about right...but then where did I get the three heads from?”

“V!” Nero snapped his fingers in front of V’s face. “Focus!” 

“Right, sorry,” V apologized quickly, returning to the subject at hand. 

Finally, after a few more moments of intense brainstorming, V recalled the solution. “Yes! I remember now! To keep the Hydra from regenerating, you have to cauterize the base of its neck.”

“Cauterize...that’s like when someone cuts off your arm and the doctors burn it to stop the bleeding, right?” Nero asked V for verification.

“That’s...oddly specific...but yes.” V furrowed his eyebrows at Nero for a moment, but otherwise was completely oblivious. “And if we combine your Roulette Spin with my fire spell, we can send this demon straight back into Hell.”

Nero grinned in response. “Let’s do it!” 

As if on cue, the Hydra turned back around and reared its heads at the devil hunters, four of them snarling at Nero and the other four baring their fangs at V. 

For just a brief moment, Nero gazed into the basilisk’s blood red irises; he remembered when his DT eyes looked just like that, back when that dreaded curtain of red blinded his human conscience. For just a brief moment, Nero remembered being overpowered by demonic instinct — that primal, inherent drive to kill and destroy. For just a brief moment, Nero remembered how it felt to be a monster. 

But that moment quickly passed, and like the sunrise dispelling the darkness of night, it was time for Nero to rise.

Narrowing his eyes at the monster before him, Nero unsheathed Red Queen and revved the motorcycle-like engine, coating his melee weapon with power. 

“Let’s end this nightmare.”

* * *

And, just like that, the final battle against the Hydra commenced. 

Nero jumped straight onto the offensive, hacking and slashing away at the serpent demon with Red Queen. Meanwhile, V kept mainly on the defensive with Umbra, keeping the other seven heads distracted and away from Nero while waiting for an opportunity to cauterize. 

The serpent demon remained as insanely tough and resilient as ever, but Nero knew in his gut that this battle would be different. Unlike last time, he was confident in his abilities, he was at peace with himself, and he had his priorities in order. But, most importantly, he was no longer fighting alone.

Eventually, the first Hydra head went down, its ugly, mutilated form dissolving into Red Orbs at Nero’s feet. As soon as the head disintegrated, V immediately teleported in front of Nero and unleashed a barrage of flames from the tip of his cane, aiming straight for the Hydra’s decapitated neck. The demon boss roared in agony as the fire scorched its skin, screaming its shrill, high-pitched cries as what little remained of its neck crumbled to dust. 

The demon’s eight heads were now reduced to seven. And this time, much to Nero’s delight, it stayed that way.

“Hell yeah, now that’s what I’m talking about!” Nero pounded his fist in the air in celebration. “One down, seven to go!”

“Don’t get too excited,” V reminded him, as the Hydra’s seven heads geared up to attack once more. “There’s plenty more work to be done.”

But Nero simply laughed as he charged up Red Queen in anticipation, and he smiled at V with his signature lopsided smirk. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

For the next several minutes, Nero and V worked diligently to cut down the rest of the demon’s appendages. Their progress was slow, but consistent, and the number of heads on the Hydra steadily continued to dwindle. After about 30 minutes, the Hydra had effectively been reduced to its original three-headed self. All was going well for the devil hunting duo, and it looked like smooth sailing from here. 

That is, until...

_BANG!_

Suddenly, a random gunshot seemed to fire out of nowhere, catching everyone off guard. Perhaps even more surprising, however, was how stunningly accurate it was; the bullet struck the Hydra’s leftmost eye in the dead-center of its pupil, a bullseye shot so impossibly perfect that even Nero couldn’t help but feel jealous. 

Unfortunately, however, he couldn’t admire it for long. The Hydra screamed bloody murder as soon as the bullet made contact, and its high-pitched cries were so deafeningly loud that it shattered every glass window in their vicinity.

V winced painfully and covered his ears, not that it helped any. “Nero, why did you—?!”

“That wasn’t me!” Nero shouted over the noise, just as confused and disgruntled as his partner. “Someone else must have—!”

Suddenly, the two heard an eruption of cackling laughter from somewhere behind them, causing both of them to nearly jump out of their skin. Nervously, Nero and V turned around to face the stranger, and immediately their jaws dropped to the glass-covered ground in shock.

The bullet had come from — not a young devil hunter — but a hardy old woman, who despite her amazingly good health looked to be nothing short of 80 years old. Her brown eyes glistened with a youthful sparkle that greatly contrasted her age, and her silvery-gray hair was loosely tied up in double buns, matching that of her maroon-haired granddaughter beside her.

“Ha!” The old woman bellowed, her loud and boisterous tone defying the rasp in her voice. “See that, Rosa? I told you I’ve still got it!”

“Abuela!” The granddaughter shrieked. “I told you not to—!”

The Hydra roared its deathly roar before she could finish her sentence, however, and it fixed all three of its heads on the human pair with a murderous gleam in its uninjured eyes. The granddaughter let out a high-pitched scream of her own as she hastily ducked for cover, dragging her stubborn grandmother behind her.

It was then that V noticed the black ring on the girl’s right middle finger, and all at once his eyes widened.

“Rose!” V exclaimed, desperately jumping out in front of the Hydra to block its attacks. “You need to get out of here!”

“What, you think I’m not trying?!” Rose — the friendly young girl from the bookstore — retorted, though the scathing remark was mainly directed towards her grandmother.

_“¡Mierda!”_ Abuela cursed in her native language. “I might be retired from devil hunting, but I’ll be damned if I ever run from a fight!”

“You’ll be damned if you don’t!” Nero butted in suddenly, cutting the argument short as the Hydra wound up to attack. “Now MOVE!”

Rose screamed yet again as the basilisk head lunged towards them, and she tackled her grandmother to the ground in a panic. Thankfully, she reacted just in time; the tips of the demon’s fangs just barely scraped above their heads, missing them by mere millimeters. Nonetheless, the Hydra slammed into the building behind them with an insane amount of force, raining down tons upon metric tons of debris on the ground below. 

Yelping slightly, Rose hastily helped Abuela to her feet before sprinting to safety. Thank Sparda that Abuela’s devil hunting background kept her strong and healthy with age, or else she would never have been able to keep pace.

“You ALWAYS have to play the hero, don’t you?” Rose hissed in exasperation, skirting around a fallen cinder block haphazardly before glaring in her grandmother’s direction. “I told you to keep the devil hunting to the professionals!”

“I am a professional,” Abuela replied stubbornly. “They didn’t call me ‘The Nightmare of El Diablo’ for nothing!”

“That was 30 years ago, Abuela!” Rose argued. 

“26!” Abuela fired back in response.

Meanwhile, back on the battlefield, V internally began to panic. He promised Rose that he would repay her for her kindness, but he never thought it would be like this. They’d better act fast, or else Rose and her gunslinging grandma would be toast.

“We need to pick up the pace,” V warned Nero. “And keep the Hydra as far away from Rose as possible.”

Nero nodded and quickly returned to fighting the demon, though he couldn’t help but voice his curiosity. 

“How do you know that girl, anyway?” Nero began casually, raising an inquiring brow at his partner. 

“We met at the bookstore,” V explained curtly, keeping the other two heads at bay with his staff. “She’s the one who helped me find my spellbook.”

Nero narrowly dodged an incoming blow from the Hydra before responding: “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t explain how you know her on a first-name basis.”

V kept his main focus on the Hydra in front of them, though his pale face was quickly turning scarlet. 

“A-are you trying to insinuate something?” V stammered.

“Honestly, I was just curious,” Nero shrugged nonchalantly, before hacking off the Hydra’s head with a deadly Roulette Spin. “But hey, if the shoe fits.”

V’s face turned blood red in embarrassment, but he silently cast the fire spell without another word. 

The demon, now reduced to just two heads, continued to inch its way towards Rose and her grandmother, despite V and Nero’s efforts. Rose had hidden herself and Abuela behind a parked vehicle — not the best hiding spot, obviously, but it was one of the few things left in the neighborhood that was still structurally sound, so V couldn’t really blame her. However, even with only two heads, the Hydra was still a colossal demon boss, and that small car was no match for its massive jaws.

“Nero,” V’s voice had a nervous edge to it as the demon continued to draw closer. “We need to hurry!”

“I know that!” Nero replied indignantly, although his voice was edged with concern, as well.

“Just do a Roulette Spin already! What are you waiting for?” V cried out in frustration. 

“I can’t! I don’t have a good enough angle!” Nero argued, though his face was plagued with worry. “It’s all or nothing with these guys.”

Suddenly, the head on the right side geared up to attack, giving Nero barely enough time to warn his partner: “INCOMING!”

V and Nero just barely managed to dodge in time, V barreling towards the right and Nero barreling towards the left. Baring its fangs, the basilisk head lunged straight ahead and clamped down on the parked vehicle with its jaws, thrashing around a bit before hurling it in a random direction. Rose was screaming bloody murder at this point; there was nowhere left for them to hide.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl in V’s mind as he watched the scene unfold. He could see the Hydra slowly turning its head towards the pair, its eyes gleaming with bloodlust and its fangs aiming to kill. Everything else around him faded from his senses — Nero, Umbra, the catastrophic damage all throughout the neighborhood. All that he could focus on was the girl from the bookstore, her eccentric grandmother, and the monster that was mere seconds away from killing them both. 

Before he even realized what he was doing, V summoned that strange white energy from his cane — the same energy that he used to escape Impetus City General Hospital, a hospital that now felt like a world and a lifetime away. Just like the first time he teleported, V could feel every atom in his body dissipate as he surrendered himself to the light, dissolving into something even lighter than air and scattering into the wind. Then, mere nanoseconds later, the sensation reversed, and in an instant his body reformed.

In less than the blink of an eye, V vanished from beside Nero and reappeared beside Rose and Abuela, sending just about everyone (except V and the Hydra) reeling. V didn’t even give them enough time to react, however; he couldn’t afford to. Instead, he pulled Rose and Abuela in as close as time could allow and summoned the spell again. 

In a flash of white light, they reappeared just a few hundred yards away from the Hydra — still a bit too close for comfort for V, but it was the farthest he could manage without leaving someone’s limbs behind.

If Rose wasn’t panicking before, she was practically on the verge of cardiac arrest by now. _“¿Qué carajo?”_

“Rosa!” Abuela scoffed. “Language!”

“Sorry, Abuela,” Rose apologized quickly, though her panic attack was far from over. “I just...what the…? How did you…?!”

“No time to explain,” V gave Rose a sincerely apologetic look before retracting his grip. “Just stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

V summoned the teleportation spell one last time, vanishing from Rose’s sight before she could even process what had happened. All she could do was stare in shock at where the mysterious boy once stood — the same boy who barely knew his own name back at Novela del Lago, let alone how to do something like this. She knew from the beginning that there was something special about this boy, but she would never have guessed...

Abuela, on the other hand, looked absolutely starstruck, as if she had just shaken hands with royalty.

“The blood of Sparda,” Abuela whispered breathlessly, her brown eyes glistening in awe.

Meanwhile, Nero’s demonic energy flared up in excitement when his partner returned to the battlefield. He could feel his inner hellfire scratching eagerly at the edges of his soul, like a dog waiting anxiously for his owner to open the front door. He was ready — more than ready — to end this nightmare, once and for all; in fact, he was downright ecstatic.

“Yo, V!” Nero shouted towards his partner. “Think you can handle two heads at once?”

V, having returned to the battlefield less than 5 seconds prior, was perplexed by this at first, but he eventually nodded in agreement. “Uh...yeah! Sure, I can handle that...”

“Good.” Nero turned back around to face the Hydra, the corner of his mouth curled upwards into a devilish, lopsided smirk. “‘Cause I’m baggin’ this bitch.”

That burning passion inside of him was simply too strong to ignore, and when all four of the Hydra’s eyes glared in his direction, there was no denying it: he had to let it out. Grinning ear-to-ear, Nero unleashed the demonic energy from his soul, and when the spectral light faded, he stood proudly in his Devil Trigger form. 

Nero narrowed his DT eyes at the Hydra before him, his spectral arms spread wide and his fanged smile even wider. “For real, this time.”

In an instant, Nero soared upwards with his Bringer Claws and sliced through the Hydra’s reptilian skin, expertly hacking off both of its remaining heads in a single, deadly swipe. V grinned triumphantly as the basilisk heads went down, and as soon as they hit the ground, he teleported in front of Nero and unleashed one last fire spell, delivering the final blow.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Hydra crumbled at their feet, its massive form exploding into red orbs that rained down like hellfire on the battlefield. 

Finally, after nearly a month of fighting his inner demons in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from, Nero was able to make things right. 

Finally — _finally_ — Nero felt like himself again. 

“I did it,” Nero breathed, reverting to his human form with a satisfied smile on his face. “I finally did it!” 

“We did it, you moron,” V shoved Nero playfully, before giving his colleague a well-deserved bear hug. “But yeah, that was pretty cool.”

Their tender moment only lasted for a second, however, before an all-too-familiar sound of Abuela’s cackling laughter caused both V and Nero to jump.

The batty old woman — who apparently had no concept of what “stay here” meant — was standing right behind the two devil hunters, practically squealing with delight. Rose, on the other hand, looked completely disheveled, and she gave V an apologetic look that clearly said “I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Rosa! Can you believe it? It’s THE blood of Sparda!” Abuela bellowed in her loud, boisterous tone. “Oh, I cannot WAIT to see the look on your father’s face when I tell him about this!”

Abuela ran straight up to Nero and V and eagerly greeted them both, shaking their hands fervently and giggling like a young fangirl.

“It’s such an honor to meet you both,” Abuela gushed. “I am Isabella Montoya Velásquez, ex-devil hunter and sharpshooting extraordinaire. I always told my stubborn _hijo_ that the legends were true, but he never believed me!”

Abuela threw her head back and cackled loudly, her bellowing laughter sounding nothing short of deranged. Naturally, Rose was the only one who was completely unfazed. 

“I swear, for a man who claims to be so well-read, he doesn’t know _mierda_ about demonology,” Abuela continued without missing a beat. “Take that spellbook of yours, for example!”

Abuela gestured bluntly to V’s inner coat pocket, where his spellbook was stashed. Mind you, V didn’t use his spellbook at all during the battle against the Hydra, so it should have been impossible for her to know where he kept it. Nervously at first, V fished out the spellbook and reluctantly handed it to Abuela, who snatched it up in a heartbeat. 

As she thumbed through the pages in the back of the book, Abuela continued to rant: “For Sparda’s sake, the whole damn thing is full of demonic runes, and he STILL didn’t put two and two together?! The hell did your father think these symbols were, Rosa?”

“I think he said it was chicken scratch, honestly…” Rose shrugged, not thinking much of it. 

Abuela cried out in exasperation. “Ay, _dios mio!_ Where did I go wrong in raising this man? Thank Sparda you’re not as dense as your father, Rosa, or else this young sorcerer might never have saved us!”

“If you had just evacuated like I told you, he wouldn’t have had to save us,” Rose reminded her grandmother none-too-gently, but Abuela simply chose to ignore it.

Eventually, Rose managed to pull her grandmother away from the devil hunters long enough to greet V with a grateful smile.

“Anyway…thanks for saving our butts back there, Sonnet Hater,” Rose said graciously, adding on her playful nickname for V with a cheeky grin. “I owe you one.” 

“It’s the least I could do in return for the book, honestly...” V replied bashfully, running his fingers through his hair in that shy manner of his.

Rose laughed in a spastic sort of way. “Least you could do? I gave you a $20 book. You saved my freaking life! There’s gotta be something I can do to pay you back for this.”

V’s pale face was almost as red as Rose’s namesake, at this point, and he bashfully began to decline the offer. “Oh, y-you don’t have to—”

“Actually, you do,” Umbra chimed in suddenly, causing everyone (including his flustered master) to jump. “We need to catch the ferry before sundown, remember? At the rate we’re going, we’ll be lucky if we get there by midnight.” 

Umbra fixed his eyes on the girl from the bookstore, his tail flicking slightly as he gave her a knowing smirk. “But the 30-mile trip would be a lot faster on wheels...and I know exactly who can give us a ride.”

Now, if Rose had been raised in a normal human family, she might’ve freaked out when she heard the panther demon speak. 

But, luckily for her, Rose’s family was anything but normal.

“Kitty!” Rose gasped suddenly, her hands flying to her mouth as she squealed in pure delight. 

The fur on the back of Umbra’s neck twitched uncomfortably. “Uh, what…?”

Within seconds, Rose had her arms wrapped around the panther in a loving embrace, smothering the poor feline in tons of unwanted affection. Before Umbra knew it, he was drowning in loving snuggles and doting baby talk, as if he were a kitten instead of a killer demon.

“Aw, you’re just a big ol’ sweetheart, aren’t you?” Rose cooed, ruffling Umbra’s neck affectionately. Whether she was just trying to push Umbra’s buttons, or she was really just _that_ oblivious, no one would ever know. “What’s his name, V?”

“My name is Umbra, and I can speak for myself,” The panther growled in disgust, his ears pulled back in annoyance. “Now get your grimy hands off of me before I—”

But Rose merely laughed and booped Umbra’s nose with her finger, silencing him. “Ah, ah, ah! No threatening the chauffeur! If you want a ride to Red Grave, you need to be a good kitty. Got it?”

Umbra opened his mouth to protest, but (thankfully) decided against it and snapped it shut again.

V turned his attention back to Rose, raising an inquiring eyebrow. “So...you are giving us a ride?”

“Sure, why not?” Rose replied casually. “The only reason I came down here in the first place was to evacuate Abuela. But since the Hydra's gone now, and her apartment is... _somewhat_ intact...I think I can leave her alone for an hour while I drive you guys to Red Grave.” 

V’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree in excitement. “Really? That’s perfect! Thank you so much.”

Rose smiled and bid her Abuela a “quick” farewell (in reality, it took at least 15 minutes. You know how grandmas are), before leading the trio to her Mustang, which was miraculously left unscathed from the demon’s onslaught. Rose climbed into the front seat, and V took shotgun beside her, leaving Nero with no choice but to uncomfortably share the crowded back seat with Umbra.

“You know, you could’ve just let V unsummon yo—” Nero began to protest, but he was shoved into the corner by Umbra’s massive body before he could finish his sentence.

“Eh, quit your whining,” Umbra yawned, stretching himself out across all three seats just to piss Nero off even more. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

As Rose turned the ignition key, V just had to say it one last time: “Seriously, Rose, thank you so much.”

Rose raised an inquiring brow. “For what? Driving you to Red Grave?”

“Well...yeah, that...but also for helping me find my spellbook,” V answered shyly, dropping his gaze to the floor in a vain attempt to hide his reddening face. “Without it, I would never have found Nero when I did...and if I hadn’t met Nero, none of this would’ve been possible. You’re the catalyst that set my whole journey in motion...and I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

Rose kept her eyes locked firmly on the road, but V could see the slightest hint of scarlet mixing with the mocha in her skin as she smiled. 

“Don’t worry,” Rose assured him. “You already have.”


End file.
